Scarlet
by Rayless Night
Summary: The color of blood, fire and dragons. Of an emperor. Of a princess.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This fic has been written based on the information given in the PSP port of the game. If Sting's released any additional info concerning the game's backstory, I'm sure I've gotten it wrong. My aim has been to have this story mesh with the game itself. _

_Disclaimer: __Yggdra Union__ is the property of Sting and Atlus. Rating is for language, suggestive themes and strong violence. Thanks to my beta for his invaluable help.

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_**Scarlet

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**1.

Emilia looked up guiltily from the silver chess set, but the heavy, hurrying footsteps passed down the corridor without pausing. She clinked the knight back onto its square, then ran to the door, peeking around its thick stone edge. Sounds didn't carry well through Castle Bronquia, but she could hear shouts - loud, overlapping. After a moment, she stopped trying to distinguish words, instead listening to tell if the voices were angry or frightened.

Someone hooted, and there was a long, spiraling whistle. Shoulders relaxing, Emilia ventured out of her mother's room into the corridor, running down a flight of stairs and crossing outside to a rampart that overlooked the main courtyard. She scrunched her nose at the smell the breeze brought her - that must be all the blood - then searched the boisterous crowd. The first thing she saw was the bear they'd set out to hunt, suspended by its limbs from a pole between two draft horses; its dark pelt shone with blood-trails. Movement at the edge of the crowd caught her eye next - men hurrying stretchers inside. She leaned forward, gripping on to a crenelation for safety, curious what would happen if her brother were severely wounded. But no, there he was in the middle of the crowd, talking to that Leon jerk. Gulcasa had a splash of blood across his right arm, and the older boy moodily held a thick cloth to his jaw.

By the time Emilia had skittered down the many stairs to the ground floor and out into the open, her parents had sauntered outside, the Emperor Alkimus striding forward to judge his son's first kill. Empress Thrasia didn't hurry, and when Emilia ran forward, she was restrained by the mere pressure of her mother's hand.

All of the knights but the Captain of Dragoons had dispersed out of respect. The captain determinedly circled the kill, his tone dry. "You certainly aired it out, my prince." Gulcasa's smile slipped, but he made no other move. "It is altogether better to kill in a single stroke, rather than bloodlet your opponent by degrees. You won't always have soldiers backing you."

Alkimus rested his hand on his heir's shoulder, his grin bright in his crimson beard. "You're over-particular, Darian. Backup or not, this is a fine first kill for a boy of ten. For anyone!" He smacked Gulcasa's shoulder, and, after a moment, the prince's smile returned.

After casually dismissing Darian, Alkimus examined the bear, his big, battle-scarred hands checking the wounds. "Excellent workmanship. Got you in the arm, did he? Glad to see he didn't weaken it. What do you say, Gulcasa? A stuffed trophy, a new winter cape, or fried bear pancakes for the rest of the week?"

"Let's mount the head," Gulcasa said after a moment's thought. "And keep the pelt for a cloak."

"And pancakes?"

"Of course pancakes."

By then, Thrasia had allowed herself and her daughter to approach the corpse. Her green eyes tensed slightly at the blood, and she folded her hands over her long skirts.

Which meant she let go of Emilia, who bounced forward until she'd come within a foot of the bear. She no longer noticed the smell of blood.

"What d'you think, Emilia?" Gulcasa asked, flicking her a look. "Nice and cuddly?"

"It's all messy."

Gulcasa stepped close to the bear. "Yeah, I guess it - it's - Crap, it's still alive!"

Emilia shrieked and reflexively clobbered the bear's snout as it swung towards her -

- and then noticed Gulcasa laughing. "Rawr! Princess pancakes for dinner!"

Emilia stamped her foot and ran back to her mother. "That was mean!"

"Yeah, you shouldn't punch bears. They have low self-esteem."

"There now, calm down." Thrasia gently extricated Emilia's hands from her skirt.

"Dummy-wad!" Emilia stamped her foot a second time, but returned to the bear.

Thrasia delicately rubbed her left temple, pushing back her brown curls. "Gulcasa, kindly show some restraint and stop teasing your sister. Emilia, Gulcasa's not a dummy-wad."

Emilia stuck her tongue out at the bear, so her mother wouldn't see. "S'okay," Gulcasa said under his breath. "We're half siblings, so we only have to get along half the time."

Emilia glanced up, not entirely clear on fractions, but decided to stroke the bear's fur instead of ask for an explanation. She pressed her fingers in, admiring the way the hair covered her hand all the way to the wrists.

"A few more kills and I might just trust you with a dragon," Alkimus said. The entire family - in fact, much of the court, most of the soldiers, and several of the enemy spies - knew Gulcasa longed for a dragon the way other children long for puppies. "This is quite a step."

Emilia looked up again, eyes shining. "I want one!" Her father and brother gave her similar blank looks. "I wanna bear hunt!"

Gulcasa rolled his eyes, but the emperor laughed. "When you're older." Emilia pouted and gripped the bear's fur. Noticing this, Alkimus stepped around the bear and swept Emilia up. "Here now, I'll get you a plush bear. Will that tide you over?"

"She's too old for bears," Thrasia answered. "And put her down, Alkimus. Four is also too old to be bundled around all the time."

"She hardly weighs a thing. There's no harm."

Thrasia's frown went from cursory to troubled. "You _are_ small, Emilia."

Emilia glowered - then was hit by inspiration. She put on her most effective cute face. "So I'm still small enough for a bear?"

Thrasia gave her a reproachful look and turned. "Come, Gulcasa. We need to have that arm cleaned."

Alkimus winked at Emilia. "A plush bear with big button eyes."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

All things considered, Emilia was glad her lady-in-waiting was Lady Martisa. Inside the castle, Martisa acted half as maid, half as governess, watching over her cleanliness, deportment and studies while giving her no room to breathe. Outside, Lady Martisa always remembered she had urgent business elsewhere (elsewhere being the stables, where there was an unusually handsome head groom) and left Emilia to her own devices.

On a cold morning shortly after her fifth birthday, Emilia wasn't precisely sure what those devices would be. It was too early in the year for griffon eggs to hatch, so there was no reason to go to the mews. A group of boys and girls, children of Alkimus' officers and ministers, had started a game of ball in the courtyard, but she wasn't interested in that either. After a moment, she walked towards the dragon stables, which were relatively quiet, and sat down on a mounting block at their front.

"Now, Bunny," she said to the plush bear in her lap, imitating her mother as closely as she could, "you must never go into any of the stables alone. Understand? And you must never put your hands through the stall bars. And if I catch you riding one of the animals by yourself-"

"I'm gonna rip your head right off!" shouted a voice above her. As Emilia swiveled around, an arm shot down and swiped Bunny up into the air.

Fear and frustration made Emilia's eyes flood with tears. She leapt to her feet and lunged. "Give Bunny back, you jerk!"

Leon easily dangled the bear just out of her reach, laughing so hard his silver hair fell into his eyes. "Damn, you're dumb. It's not even a bunny."

Emilia made another jump, knowing it wouldn't do any good to explain how Bunny's plush fur was as soft as a rabbit's, and she liked to imagine he could whiffle his nose like a rabbit, and, imagination or not, he wouldn't like having his head ripped off. She put her hands on her hips. "I'm the Princess of Bronquia! Give Bunny back."

"Damn, I am so scared," Leon drawled. "What if I just kidnapped you and sold you to Fantasinia? Would you like that?" Emilia didn't have a clue who or what Fantasinia was, and when Leon saw this, he changed tact. "You should take better care of Bunny here. I think his eye is bothering him." With a sharp twist, he pulled Bunny's left eye button out and flicked it in her face. Emilia blinked, stunned, then bared her teeth.

"And-" Leon pivoted "-I think he's a bit lonely." And he turned and ran into the dragon stables.

Emilia didn't even think about warnings, just careened after him. She never would have caught up except that Leon slid to a halt in front of one of the stalls. She tumbled to a stop, barely short of him.

Leon held Bunny to his ear. "Shit, this is sad. Bunny says he's sick of you. He doesn't want to be around a whiny little princess anymore. I think he wants to be friends with Pyrrhos here."

At the sound of his name, the drake in the stall uncoiled himself from the stone floor, raising his head to peer through the iron grille in front of his stall.

Leon adopted a falsetto and pressed Bunny against the bars. "Hungry, Pyrrhos? Think I can help you out?"

Emilia shifted her weight, hands balled into fists. "Bunny doesn't talk like a nincompoop!"

Leon shoved Bunny's head into the stall. Emilia launched herself.

She hit his stomach dead-on. Though she was about a third of his body weight, her momentum was enough to send him reeling back, throwing Bunny high into the air, slipping on the floor, and making a sound halfway between a curse and a gargle. Once Leon was horizontal, the princess commenced pummeling his chest, maintaining excellent rhythm.

Excellent rhythm while it lasted. In a moment, Leon brought his elbow up and slammed it across her face. Emilia hit harder than before, but she couldn't stop him as he sat up and back-handed her off of him. She crashed backwards, and it was only then that she realized screaming might be helpful.

Leon grabbed her by the head, hands pressing on either side of her skull. She clawed his face and screamed. She didn't hear the running footsteps, but she saw one of the stable hands throw himself into Leon, scattering all of them. Another hand hoisted her up and held her close, almost like her father. For reasons she never bothered to analyze, Emilia continued to scream and thrash. "Prince!" someone was shouting. Leon was snarling. Two more stable hands had come to grapple with him. Pyrrhos had gone back to sleep. Bunny lay stoically in a corner.

Gulcasa, being the only member of the imperial family within shouting range, paused only to drop his baby dragon back into his cage, then came at a run, wishing he'd brought a better weapon than a knife. He ran down a row of stalls, cut through one of the tack rooms, down another corridor, and arrived at the tail-end of pandemonium.

By then, the three stable hands had managed to restrain Leon with a dragon bridle around his wrists. Leon, for his part, had stopped struggling, probably realizing what an unenviable position he'd placed himself in. Though outspoken, he'd usually maintained control in the past.

"Highness!" The head groom attempted to bow while still holding Emilia. "We - we found them fighting."

Gritting her teeth, Emilia wriggled out of the groom's arms, dropped to the floor, then ran to stand behind her brother. "He tried to kill Bunny! I had to save him!"

"Damn, Gulcasa." Leon glared sidelong at one of his captors. "She runs around everywhere. Someone has to teach her not to hang around the dragons."

Everyone expected Gulcasa to speak, but he didn't, his pale eyes moving carefully from the shallow scratches on Leon's face to the broad bruise darkening across Emilia's forehead. Even then, he hesitated, less out of fear than a need to be as assured as possible.

Which was why he never actually got a chance to speak. "I believe a fracas in the dragon stables falls under my authority."

Emilia glanced up and saw Sir Darian standing behind her, then looked over at Gulcasa, whose shoulders had tensed. Then he shrugged, smoothing it over. "If you want to deal with it, sure." He started walking away. And half-turned and made a quick gesture to Emilia. The princess blinked, then tightened her jaw and strode purposefully into the center of the crowd, past the stable hands holding Leon (she didn't trust herself to look at him), over to the corner, picked Bunny up, and only then joined her brother. They walked in silence until they were out of the dragon stables. Then Emilia whirled. "He tried to hurt Bunny!"

"Are you crazy?" Gulcasa demanded. "Leon's a maniac in a fight!"

Emilia squeezed Bunny, glaring, tears rimming her eyelids.

Gulcasa blinked, talking fast. "This is going to - Damn, we don't want Leon sent away. I know Father's already hoping to get him leading a unit. We're going to need captains like him."

"What?" Emilia shouted. "That - that creep?"

"Not to mention that he could've _killed_ you, Emilia!"

It was Emilia's turn to consider. She studied the top of Bunny's head. She'd never really thought about her own death before, its possibility, but she knew it would be bad. Very bad. She hugged Bunny tighter, either protecting him or herself. After a long moment, she said quietly, "But you would've hurt him?"

Gulcasa, still abstracted, glanced down.

"If he'd killed me."

Gulcasa didn't mention that Leon was two years older than him, at that point much stronger and more thoroughly trained in combat. But he did answer truthfully.

"He'd have to get through me first."

Emilia smiled, perfectly satisfied with this answer. Gulcasa fell back into deep thought.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

"Please, just open the window a little bit."

Pressing her ear to the wall, Emilia could hear her father unlatching the window, and she could imagine the cool spring breeze drifting through the sitting room. It didn't give her much consolation; she knew her mother would keep fanning herself.

"I think you're looking well, my dear," Alkimus said heartily. "Perhaps you'll be able to watch Gulcasa's tournament after all. He's looking forward to it, and I'm sure he'd be braced if you were there."

"He's looking forward to serving as Darian's squire?" There was a short silence while Thrasia might have coughed softly, laughed, or even rolled her eyes. "They seem ill-matched."

Alkimus' chuckle was anything but discreet. "True enough. But Baldus already has young Leon for a squire, and aside from him, Darian is the greatest of the Falcons. No one else is worthy of Gulcasa, even if..." Another pause while Emilia heard her father walk across the floor. "Never mind. Gulcasa will take the bitterness as long as he has a chance to compete."

Emilia glanced down the hall. Their talk wasn't interesting after all. Just as she'd decided she'd sneak away, she heard her father's next words:

"As for Emilia..."

Ear to wall.

"Don't start, Alkimus." Emilia couldn't hear Thrasia's sigh, but she knew it was there. "She's much too young, too small."

"Small is what she needs to be. As for age, she'll soon be too old to be initiated. She wants this, Thrasia."

"But I don't," Thrasia replied with her characteristic starkness. "I don't...I don't want to strap Emilia onto a griffon and see her fly away where no one can help her."

"There now," Alkimus said gently. "No need to upset yourself." Another pause. "Then I'll tell Emilia tonight. No reason to keep her in suspense. Besides, she can train to be a Valkyrie in a few years."

Emilia barely heard the last words, turning and running down the hallway.

Her mother, and consequently the rest of the family, had temporarily moved into the castle's south wing, which was the newest part of the castle. According to the imperial magicians who had built it, it was warmer and suffused with inherent magic, small and made from wood, not stone, the better to conduct the magic's healing properties. The imperials always moved there, when they were sick.

It was small enough that Emilia had returned to the stone main castle in short order, not glancing at those she passed. Sir Radant and Lady Espria, two of her father's seven Falcon Generals, gave her raised eyebrows. Servants sidestepped out of her way. In one corridor, she slammed into one of her family's diplomatic visitors, young Roswell Branthese of Verlaine. His silk hat went flying, his face drained to a white rage, and Emilia only glared before quickly choosing another hallway.

The further she went, the less-traveled the hallways were, and when she'd come to the Hall of Consorts, she was alone and able to throw herself against the wall and cry.

Why had they made her wait so long before making a decision? Her mother had always resisted the idea of Emilia becoming a griffon rider, even when Alkimus first suggested it on her sixth birthday. Emilia had never really thought of it. She'd always loved griffons, and when her father pointed out that she had the light build ideal for a rider, she'd clung to the idea. And her father, though he told her to be patient, had never said she couldn't become one.

Emilia beat her fist against the wall. Griffon riders always started young, and the oldest initiates they accepted were nine-year olds. Three months had passed since her eighth birthday.

When she heard footsteps, she jerkily straightened and walked down the hall, as if examining the pictures.

"What're you doing here? Branthese said you were acting like a maniac," Gulcasa asked dubiously. Not turning, Emilia couldn't blame his question. The Hall of Consorts wasn't exactly exciting. It, like most of the hallways around it, was part gallery, part museum, this one being dedicated to portraits of the spouses of Bronquia's reigning monarchs. Emilia walked beneath her ancestors, many of them with the blood-red hair the Bronquian imperials were famed for. Many also had the golden eyes.

"They won't let me!" Emilia shouted, voice bouncing through the cold hall. "Father said no! That's it! I'm going to - to be a stupid Valkyrie, I guess!"

"Did he?" She could hear Gulcasa approaching. Turning, she saw he must have come from the dragons, wearing a thick quilted jacket for protection. His pudgy cheeks looked raw from the wind, his shoulder-length hair pulled back. "I thought he'd let you."

Emilia stopped and crossed her arms under the portrait of her great-great-great grandmother, Sigrun Eir Artwaltz. "He was!" Her voice was thinning into a squeal, and she tried to stop it. Didn't quite succeed. "B-but with Mother so - because she's - he's not going to - to upset her and-"

Gulcasa frowned. "I'll talk to him."

"I don't need your help!" Emilia shouted, stamping away from him and kicking the wall (almost dislodging her five-greats grandfather, Rodrigue Valois XIV).

Gulcasa cocked his left eyebrow in that annoying way he'd discovered recently. "He'll listen to me."

Emilia's haphazard stomps had led her to the portrait of her great-great grandmother, Varinia Bronquiae, who was enormously fat and had become empress by marrying her second cousin. She would not have approved of Emilia's death glare. "And he won't listen to me?" Emilia whirled to face her brother.

Gulcasa tightened his lips. It was grimace, or something like one.

Emilia fell to her knees and hung her head, letting her red bangs hide her face. Then she flopped forward and simply lay there for a minute or so, trying her hardest not to think. It was very soothing.

When she finally peeled herself off the carpet, she was surprised to see Gulcasa was still there, watching her. "Don't worry," he said after a moment. "I'll bring Father around." Emilia flinched, then shook her head. Gulcasa's raised eyebrow was unrehearsed this time. "Why not? You want to be a rider."

"I..." Emilia's tantrum had left her tired, all of her angry conviction leeching out of her. "Mother doesn't want it, and..." She looked guiltily up. "Mother's..."

Frowning again, Gulcasa walked past her to Thrasia's portrait, the last so far in the line. Alkimus had remarried when Gulcasa was two, so the prince couldn't remember a time before his stepmother. After a moment, Emilia joined him, studying her mother's painted face.

Whatever the flatterers said, she didn't think it looked much like her mother. Her brown hair was too wavy, and the artist had gotten her eyes wrong, painted them a much darker green than they really were. Thrasia, like many of the consorts, had imperial Bronquian blood, so her eyes were more golden than pure green, a trait she'd passed down to her daughter.

After a moment, Emilia saw that Gulcasa had shifted his attention to the painting alongside Thrasia's. It was simpler, and much of it had been painted from memory: a woman in a plain blue dress, her long purple hair hanging close to her face. Her right hand was held at heart-level, and on her palm was a flame. Her eyes were flat gold, unlike the richer gold of her husband's. The color didn't startle Emilia; she'd seen it every day in her brother's eyes. But Gulcasa hadn't inherited his mother's slit pupils. Emilia touched Gulcasa's wrist, wondering if he missed her as much as Emilia knew she'd miss her own mother.

Emilia herself didn't know much about Alkimus' first wife, Empress Tritolma. She'd asked her mother about her once, especially the strange eyes, and Thrasia said that Tritolma came from a very ancient Bronquian family, and they often had such eyes. As for the flame, Thrasia said it symbolized Tritolma's ardent love for the empire. Emilia hadn't thought to ask why none of Bronquia's more illustrious sovereigns were depicted with a flame.

Gulcasa knew barely more about his mother. He'd once told Emilia that people hardly ever spoke of her to him, which led him to think she hadn't been a very popular empress, reclusive and reserved. For seven years, the court thought she would be childless. She died in childbirth.

Emilia felt Gulcasa shake himself. Just then, she realized how cold the corridor really was and how close the Hall of Consorts was to...

Gulcasa looked down when she wrapped both hands around his. "Brother, let's go."

"Why?"

Emilia bit her lower lip. "Just because." When he didn't move, she glanced pointedly to the far end of the corridor, which was unlit.

Gulcasa followed the glance, then half-smiled. "You're afraid of the Obsidian Castle?"

"I just don't...like it. I mean..." _That's where the imperial crypt is,_ she could've said, but then he'd know for sure she was afraid of ghosts. It didn't make any difference that she was related to those ghosts, or she'd be interred alongside those ghosts one day. Ghosts were ghosts.

"It's just part of the castle." The Hall of Consorts didn't lead directly into the crypt, but they shared a wall. He shook his head. "Good thing you're not the heir." The black spire was not only a mausoleum; the thin, dark room at its tip was the chamber where every Bronquian monarch walked alone to crown himself.

"It's just cold, all right? And - you know..." She searched his face. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

"That the closer you get the - the harder it is to breathe?"

Gulcasa stared at her a moment, then laughed heartily. "No. I think your imagination's bullying you."

Emilia shoved his hand away. "Fine! You can hang out with all the dead people if you want." And she made to move around him.

"Hold it," Gulcasa whispered, one hand latching onto her shoulder.

Emilia almost fell and angrily turned around. "Let me go!"

Gulcasa ignored her, staring fixedly down the dark hallway. After a moment, he squared his shoulders and called out, "Who's there? Answer the Heir of Bronquia."

Poised with apprehension, Emilia peered into the darkness, but saw nothing.

"Who are you?" Gulcasa asked, still speaking in an authoritative tone Emilia had never heard from him before. There was a moment of silence. "I command you to stay!" In another moment, he ran several steps forward. Emilia hesitated, then ran after him. Gulcasa stopped and angled his arm in front of her.

"What? What is it? Who are you talking to?"

Gulcasa looked sharply down at her. "Didn't - didn't you see?" Emilia blinked confusedly. "There was a man. He had a hood and - chains. He was watching us. Was hardly even hiding."

Emilia studied the dark end of the corridor. Closer now, she could see the far wall. There was no door at that end.

"Emilia!" Gulcasa's voice shook, very different from the tone she'd heard before. "You saw him!"

Emilia wanted to nod, to reassure him - which was something else new, her strong older brother needing that - but she couldn't lie to him. She didn't need to shake her head; it was plain on her face.

Gulcasa stalked to the end of the hallway, turned around, as if expecting to see the man crouched in a corner. After a moment, he sighed and rubbed his forehead, covering his eyes for a moment. Finally, he started back up the hall, grabbing her hand as he walked. His voice wasn't stern, but distant. "Don't come here alone."

"Why?" Emilia glanced back at the blank face of the wall, then shivered. "Do you know who he is?" She looked up. "Have you seen him before?"

Gulcasa didn't answer.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

"Be careful - _Don't_ lose your temper, princess!"

Emilia gritted her teeth and tried not to think about murder. She tried to breathe evenly, putting on the façade of calm. The young griffon in her arms didn't seem convinced, thrashing out with both sets of claws and trying to stretch her wings.

"Easy now," Lenna said, hovering close enough to offer assistance, far enough away to remind Emilia that she had to do this on her own. "Be gentle but firm. Just let her know that she can't get away until you say so."

Disregarding the "gentle", Emilia locked her arms around Twit, the sleeves of her quilted silk jacket sliding over fur and feather alike. She'd learned many times over the past year that thick silk jackets were better than steel breastplates when it came to small cuddly animals with sharp edges. While a claw could easily punch through metal, it was more likely to get caught in the cloth or simply slip away. Even the dragon knights wore such jackets when handling draklings.

_Keep at it,_ Gulcasa had told her the last time she'd complained to him. _Breaking a griffon can't be harder than breaking a dragon._

Breaking Twit had begun the day she was born, when Emilia came down to the mews and selected the beautiful black and red chick as her own. From then on Emilia came down to Twit's box every day - petting her, feeding her, and carrying her around. Emilia loved this part, especially when Twit relaxed and became a warm, fluffy pet in her arms. But it wasn't meant to be cute, as both Lenna and Gulcasa had told her, she having trained dozens of griffon riders, he having gone through a similar process with his dragon. It was meant to show a large, powerful, carnivorous monster who was boss.

So best to start in the brief period when it was still smaller than you.

"That's it, my lady. Just be patient."

Twit, now two months old and almost three feet from beak to tailbone, writhed. Emilia clasped her close, not in affection; she didn't want Twit freeing one of her wings and smacking her across the face and breaking her nose. The griffon squawked as though she were being plucked alive. Emilia had originally named her Twitter for the adorable sounds she made as a newborn chick. However, as the weeks passed, Emilia realized her griffon was just a twit, plain and simple.

"How goes?" came the voice of her tutor, Sir Langford, brushing some sawdust out of his short brown hair. "Have you managed to keep the chick in check?"

If she'd been strong enough, Emilia would've thrown Twit at him, but she answered with a long, frustrated growl. At this stage, she wasn't trying to carry Twit anymore. For the next four months of Twit's life, she was supposed to simply hold her in place, teaching the griffon to submit to her. She'd seen cavalrymen do the same things to foals, the animal eventually standing still at the human's first touch. She'd seen Gulcasa do it to his dragon. Was she the only one finding it impossible?

"That's enough for now," Lenna muttered, letting herself into the stall and clamping a muzzle on Twit's beak. Much practiced in it by now, Emilia quickly released the griffon and backed out of her stall, Lenna following to get the door. In a (muffled) screaming rage, Twit launched herself into the air and bounced against the stall's iron bars.

"So," Langford said pleasantly, "up for some history?"

Emilia shrugged off her jacket; even in the dark mews, it was hot. "Lemme rest a bit first."

"Of course," Langford said with that little half-bow she hated. Still, he'd been trained to do it, so she'd try to ignore it.

That had been one of her mother's instructions - some time - in one of those dozens of conversations where everyone wondered if it were the last. _Try to be patient, Emilia. The people will love you more for it._ There had been so many conversations, so many platitudes, so many instructions that Emilia could no longer remember what they _had_ said at her mother's deathbed, only that her father stood at the window, too pained to watch, and Gulcasa made sure Thrasia was comfortable.

_Be careful,_ Thrasia had also said. _You will be in great danger, so never be reckless._ When, halfway to Emilia's ninth birthday, Thrasia lay dying, the princess had already been initiated as a griffon rider trainee. Gulcasa had argued Alkimus back around, and perhaps Thrasia had been too weak to contest it. Or perhaps she now guessed how quickly Emilia might have to grow up.

On a wisp of memory, Emilia recalled that her mother had warned Gulcasa not to be reckless as well.

Langford followed his student respectfully into the summer sunlight, glancing appreciatively at the mew's training grounds, where riders checked their mounts, took off, or practiced grounded combat. All of them were female. In most of the world, male griffons were born wingless, only females were ridden into battle. (Among the Aries breeds, both sexes had been winged, but that strain had been largely destroyed during the Great Sorcerer War.) As an homage to this (and because women tended to be lighter riders), the mews only accepted female initiates. So Langford seemed quite content to linger in the mews courtyard.

The dragon stables were not far off, and they could hear the ruckus of a match beyond fought in one of the rings. Emilia ignored it until she caught a familiar voice, then hurried over.

A small crowd had gathered at the ring, including General Espria, leader of the Imperial Aerial Forces. At first, Emilia couldn't see anything, then Langford murmured, "Make way for the princess," and pointedly nudged several hulking knights to either side, letting Emilia come right to the fence.

Mounted on his gray dragon, Captain Darian prowled at the edge of the sparring match, calling out points. Emilia had to admit Leon was handling his mount well. Both horse and dragon trainers labored to accustom their animals to fighting on the same battle field. As a result many fine-blooded horses were unsuited for anything but meat, being too maddened by fear. Others, though they managed to fight alongside dragons, were fractious and high-strung. And while Leon's black stallion wheeled, churned up dust, rolled his eyes and squealed, he still obeyed his rider's commands, keeping himself close enough to the opponent so Leon could attack.

Gulcasa's red dragon, now weighing a ton and twenty feet long from snout to spiked tail, had no such issues. Leon was almost six feet tall by now, but the fifteen year old Gulcasa had begun to catch up to his strength, and he used both that and his aggressive mount to his advantage.

"Point Leon," Darian said flatly as Leon's lance struck Gulcasa's armored thigh - luckily from an angle, sparing the prince a broken bone. Gulcasa turned his dragon sharply, presenting his shield to Leon as he planned his next attack. Leon reined to face the dragon, leaving neither side open. Emilia could see smears of white sweat barring the horse's haunches, the large muscles in its legs quivering.

The dragon, being bipedal, turned faster than the horse, and Gulcasa made his lunge for Leon's shield side. His scythe was primarily a slashing weapon, but it was capped with a tall spike. Leon brought up his shield.

Which must have been exactly what Gulcasa wanted because he punched the spike through the top of the shield, then wrenched to the right. Emilia had never heard a grown man scream before, and, little as she liked Leon, she flinched as Gulcasa tore the shield from his arm, leather straps snapping. Leon fell onto his horse's neck, his face white under his black helmet, his left arm dangling at his side.

"Mastery Gulcasa," Darian clipped, riding between the two combatants. "Do you yield, Sir Leon?"

Bracing his fist on his saddle, Leon raised himself. From the fence, Emilia could hear his harsh breathing. "You're going to eat shit, Gulcasa." And to Darian, "Out of my way!"

"Idiot," Emilia whispered to Langford. "He can't even hold his reins now. He should just back off."

Langford's eyebrows were both raised, his eyes cool as he watched the match. "Perhaps doing so would lose him his position."

Emilia crossed her arms, still not convinced. Two months ago, Alkimus had raised Leon to the level of Falcon General, a military rank second only to the emperor himself. Leon was the youngest, most inexperienced of the eight Falcons, the one who'd been initiated purely on potential. He had a lot of prestige to lose.

So did the emperor's son. Darian trotted to the edge of the ring, making room.

Leveling his lance, Leon spurred his horse into a fast charge. At the last moment, Gulcasa had his dragon rear to its full height and take the blow. Dragonhide was tough, and while a large bruise spread across the dragon's side, it only served to anger the monster. While Leon leaned back, attempting to halt his horse without the benefit of reins, the dragon swung around, slamming its spiked tail into the stallion's side, crushing Leon's left calf.

"Yield!" Darian bellowed.

Leon's horse staggered, side-stepped, but stood. Probably it was so crazed with fear and pain it could no longer think, could only obey its rider's demands. Leon had dropped his lance, being forced to grip the high pommel of his saddle in order to remain upright. Gulcasa backed his dragon away, but his lowered scythe made it clear he was preparing for a charge, should Leon wish to continue. Emilia studied her brother's face from the distance. It was strangely still, the mouth slightly tensed, the eyes too bright. She blinked, trying to make him look more like himself, the Gulcasa she'd seen every day. Glancing up, she noticed General Espria had moved to Langford's side, and both of them were watching the prince.

Gritting his teeth, Leon dismounted, flinching as he landed on his broken leg. "Somebody put this damn animal out of its misery!" he shouted as the horse crumpled to its knees, blood oozing from its side.

Gulcasa laughed, and though the laugh was far from sportsmanlike, he both looked and sounded like himself again. Not pausing to receive any praise (or threats from Leon), he wheeled his dragon around. Someone respectfully opened the gate. Emilia ran to catch up to him.

"You murdered him!" Emilia said, not bothering to hide the delight in her voice.

Gulcasa noticed her, and Emilia was relieved to see that he looked entirely like himself - tired, a little pudgy, face streaked with dirt and sweat. And out of breath. "You were watching?" She nodded. "Heading back? Here." He had the dragon squat, allowing Emilia to scramble up and sit behind his high-backed saddle. She arranged herself, careful of the long spikes that started along the dragon's tail, then Gulcasa set the dragon walking again.

"How's your leg?"

"Fine," Gulcasa said shortly (well, thought Emilia, they were riding back to the castle, not walking). "But I'm going to have a talk with Darian. We should have the shields lower on the dragons, and there could be one on each side..."

Emilia swatted Gulcasa's long red ponytail out of her face. "You know he's not going to take your advice." She did her best imitation of the Falcon General. "_We have been riding this way for three centuries, young prince, and I imagine that three centuries of dragon knights have learned a little more than you, young prince._" Gulcasa snorted. Emilia reached down and patted the warm dragonhide by her leg. "How's Majunga? Did that hurt him?"

"He's fine. It made the fight interesting for him." They'd come into the courtyard by then, where a page came forward, his face puzzled. It was his job to take travelers' mounts to the stables. Gulcasa had ridden right past the stables, where he could have handed Majunga to a servant there. Nevertheless, no one questioned him. More importantly, fewer people saw his pained movements. Emilia slid off, then watched as Gulcasa carefully dismounted, leaning on his scythe.

"It was a great fight," Emilia went on as they walked inside. "I can't wait until I can do that sort of stuff to him." And she pantomimed a griffon rider sweeping down upon a knight.

Langford must have heard Gulcasa's laugh, because he was hurrying inside in a minute. Giving Gulcasa a bow (a much more respectful bow than the one he offered Emilia) he reminded her that they were both ten minutes late for their history lesson. Shoulders slumping, Emilia followed him upstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

Emilia arranged her sleeve so that the lace completely hid the bruise she'd earned that morning while riding, then reached down to pull up her silk stockings around her ankles. Because she was eleven, still younger than thirteen, her ballgown only reached to slightly below her knees, so shoes and stockings were important.

Too young for long gowns, too young for strong wine, too young to dance with anybody but relatives...Why was she going to this ball anyway? She would've asked her handmaid, Lady Valena (Martisa had been dismissed after the Leon Incident), except that it would be the twentieth time, and Valena would probably throw something heavy at her. Sir Langford could've told her that the Armistice Ball was a tradition, and traditions, however worthless they were in reality, must be upheld.

"You won't have to put up with this again until you're twenty one," he'd told her weeks ago, before they'd left Bronquia. Centuries ago, the entire continent, bound in a mesh of alliances and counter-alliances, had been poised to go to war. It was averted by a party. Lady Rosalva Esmeralda, the first White Rose of Verlaine, had assembled the leaders of all the countries under her roof to celebrate the harvest. And, or so the simplified version went, through a month of feasting, tournaments and general civility, the kings, queens and bishops had come to an accord. Afterwards, Rosalva renewed her invitation every decade, and though war had broken out often enough in the passing centuries, and sometimes warring royals had refused to meet in Verlaine, some of them always came.

"So we're going to party and then everyone will love each other?" Emilia knew that Bronquia was _currently_ at peace with its neighbors, but she'd learned enough of history to know that even peacetime has its tensions. Between Bronquia and Verlaine lay the strongest nation on the continent - Fantasinia. The kingdom and the empire weren't presently at war, but neither were they allies.

"How much longer until the ball?" Emilia asked, flouncing away from her mirror before Valena could mess with her hair again.

"A little more than an hour, milady."

"Why'd you get me ready so early? Or-" She glanced sharply over. "You just wanted to make sure _you_ had plenty of time to look pretty."

Valena was fifteen, old enough to flirt with any of the minor nobles or knights who might notice her. She curtsied. "Will your highness excuse me?"

Emilia nodded, stretched - then winced. "I'm going to find my brother." But Valena was already gone.

Gulcasa called her in at her knock, and she found him halfway ready, his long hair still drying from his bath. "Brother, do you have any of that bruise stuff?" She pulled up her sleeve to show the greenish yellow stain on her arm. "It's driving me crazy." He passed her a small jar of ointment, then picked up his vest, not much interested. He'd probably told his valet to go away. By shouting.

"I don't know how you're going to be able to dance." Emilia rubbed a small amount of ointment on her arm, careful not to ruin the lace. "I am so sore from yesterday's races. Still, it was worth it to beat those Fantasinian riders. They must breed griffons slow there. And your match today was great." She handed Gulcasa his jar back. "Your face says 'Ugh'."

"Ugh," Gulcasa said, finally resigning himself to his vest.

Emilia widened her eyes. "Did Father make it official?"

"No," Gulcasa replied, rather sharply. "He wouldn't dare."

"Don't go for it," Emilia said firmly. "She's so boring."

In the weeks preceding the journey to Verlaine, Alkimus had talked seriously to Gulcasa about his marriage prospects. First time. And he'd suggested the possibility of a match between Gulcasa and Yggdra Yuril Artwaltz of Fantasinia.

"It was actually Baldus' notion," Sir Langford had explained to Emilia in private, referring to the eldest and greatest Falcon General. "The Artwaltz line has, on several occasions, intermarried with your family. But never the Fantasinian heir."

"Yeah," Emilia had said. "Wouldn't that be a mess for the two countries?"

"It depends on the individuals." Langford frowned doubtfully and remained lost in thought until Emilia called him back. "Your father and Baldus both have great faith in the prince. He is intelligent, resourceful, and...strong-willed. Princess Yggdra, by all accounts, is timid and naive. If they were to marry, Prince Gulcasa could very well command the Fantasinian throne through her."

Emilia hadn't often brought up the subject with Gulcasa, instinctively knowing he wouldn't be thrilled by it. But Princess Yggdra would be attending tonight's ball and, at fourteen, was old enough to be wed. She frowned. "Are you going to dance with her?"

"If I can help it, no." Gulcasa shrugged on his short formal cape and regarded himself moodily in the mirror. "I might command my men to storm the ballroom on dragonback, put a stop to the whole party."

"Or I could just spill things on her whenever she comes near you." Emilia sat down on his clothes trunk and swung her legs. "Will you dance with me?" Gulcasa gave her an exasperated look. She pouted. "Father will dance one dance with me, then talk politics with Baldus all night. According to Valena, I'll 'reflect badly upon the Empire' if I spend all my time eating. So if I'm going to have to stay up all night, I want to be doing something." She kicked the chest lightly, then realized she might scuff her slippers. "Besides, every dance with me is a dance not with her."

Struck by a sudden thought, she studied Gulcasa. At seventeen, he was still growing. The pudge he'd carried for years was being replaced with muscle, his face more planed. Emilia tipped her head to one side. "You're kinda not ugly, Gulcasa. Why don't _you_ just pick someone?" She didn't like the idea of a stranger barging into her family, but if it wasn't the wispy Yggdra, she'd be content.

"I don't want to deal with that now," Gulcasa muttered. He looked at his unruly, waist-length mane and resignedly reached for a hair-tie. "I have other things to take care of."

Emilia tipped her head the other way and leaned around to catch Gulcasa's eye in the mirror. "What things?"

Gulcasa watched her in the mirror, not saying anything for almost a minute. "You really want to know?"

Emilia leaned forward. "_Don't_ tease me."

Gulcasa turned from the looking glass. "I don't have time to explain it now. But..." He glanced to the dark window. "We've been in Verlaine for three weeks, and I've learned some interesting things. You could...Yes, you could be a great help to me."

"Stop teasing me!"

He smiled. "Be sure you won't be missed tomorrow night."

Before Emilia could try to whine an explanation out of him, Valena knocked at the door, respectfully asking for the princess.

Emilia danced with her father, then, as he drifted off to talk politics, she searched the edges of the ballroom for someone decent to talk to. Several girls her own age, still un-courtable, but old enough to be interested, giggled as they scoped out the young lords. Others were already locked in close conversations with their friends. Eventually, Emilia, forehead pinched from her diadem, perched herself on a windowsill with a glass of diluted wine in her hand and simply people-watched.

She saw her father conversing with King Ordene of Fantasinia, their demeanors polite and artificial. The Black Rose and the White Rose were both in attendance, smirking icily at each other across the ballroom and glaring whenever one danced with someone else. Lady Marlea, one griffon rider Emilia had bested in yesterday's races, approached and was overly sweet to her, stressing how "adorable" and "doll-like" she was. "I could drop you right in a nursery and no one could tell you apart from the toys!" When Marlea left, rolling her eyes, Emilia bared her teeth at her wineglass.

Gulcasa made heroic efforts to remain a wallflower, failing as often as not. His partners were noblewomen belonging to every country, making the most direct path to the Bronquian crown. Once, he was accosted by one of the Undines from Queen Emelone's delegation, but she at least could not force him into a waltz. He danced twice with Rosary Esmeralda (the second time, Emilia noticed Roswell Branthese watching; he grabbed a whole honeydew melon from one of the tables, pulled out a knife, and painstakingly carved it into the likeness of a skull; he then spent the remainder of the dance staring intently at it and muttering under his breath; Emilia didn't know if it was some sort of slapdash curse or he was trying to turn it into a corpse which he could then sic on someone).

Princess Yggdra, looking pale as a ghost in her silver gown, danced often, but neither she nor Gulcasa approached the other. At the end of each dance, Queen Sigrid always beckoned her daughter to the edge of the floor, keeping her well away from the Bronquian prince.

Around eleven thirty, Emilia, drowsy, on her third glass of three-fourths juice, one-fourth wine, noted her brother hurrying towards her. Behind him was Court Magician Eudy, looking a little tipsy and very determined. Gulcasa spoke with forced joviality. "Sister! I haven't seen you all night!"

Emilia glared at Eudy. "Go away. He doesn't wanna dance."

Eudy blinked, just noticing Emilia, sniffed, then walked away, chin held high.

"Why haven't you told them all to buzz off?"

"Because I've realized it doesn't work." Gulcasa signaled to a waiter and took a glass of stronger wine. "Damn. If I could brain them with candlesticks without causing a war, I would." He drank thoughtfully. "Maybe I will anyway."

Emilia yawned, searching the crowd for Yggdra. She sat with her father in a corner, he talking with friends, she wearily resting her head against his arm. "Don't let them make you marry her."

"No fear." He finished his drink and passed it to the first servant who came close. "There are other ways of dealing with Fantasinia." Then he blinked quickly and looked around to see if anyone were standing nearby. They were alone, or as alone as they could be.

Emilia raised her eyebrows. "Did you mean to say that out loud?"

Gulcasa smiled. "Why don't you ask Father if you can leave and go to bed?"

Emilia pulled her spine straight. "I'm not a baby. I can stay up just as long as you."

"Maybe so. But -" he held her gaze "- I'll want you alert tomorrow."

Emilia was in bed within the quarter hour.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

"Milady, may I compliment you on your performance today?"

Emilia quickly smoothed over a frown and said something polite. She hadn't often talked to Sir Radant, the handsome commander of the imperial archers. Though a princess, her military rank was relatively low, and the only Falcon General she saw regularly was Espria.

For a moment, she wondered if the unmarried Radant were aiming for an easy in to the imperial family, then dismissed the idea. According to Valena, he already had three or four women and probably wouldn't make any serious move until she was somewhat older. She didn't like Radant, but she was pleased to know someone so handsome and important had been watching the aerial drills that morning.

"I admire your determination greatly," Radant continued, lifting his wineglass in a small salute. "So many princesses would shrink behind a brother so...assertive." Emilia nodded, not quite sure how to respond. Radant bowed and moved on through the solarium, following the steps of one of Yggdra's ladies in waiting.

Emilia bit into her fudge torte and glanced at the clock: quarter to nine. Gulcasa hadn't told her when to be ready - indeed, she'd hardly seen him all day, and that from a distance - but the sky was already darkening. She licked chocolate frosting from her fingertips, grabbed a small butterscotch mousse, and edged her way out of the crowded solarium. She'd need to find her father before she could retire to her room. Another of many trials of being underage.

Because the gathering was in its final week, all the delegations seemed to be in higher spirits, and Emilia had to dodge small clusters of people in the hallways, the balconies, the reading rooms. She glanced at each, searching for her father. There was the White Rose on a balcony, being poured a glass of wine by one of her pet golems. There were several of the southern bishops, heatedly discussing the morality of a play that was to be performed later tonight. Falcon Generals Baldus and Eleazar arguing, looking as though they'd like to kill each other.

She finally found the emperor in a lit alcove, sequestered with Pope Joachim and King Ordene Arn Artwaltz of Fantasinia. Putting on her most engaging, respectful face, she walked over to the edge of the light, close enough to be noticed, but hardly close enough to intrude.

"The greatest blessing for all of our countries," the pope was saying, "is only peace. There is no prosperity without it."

Ordene took a sip of wine, his blue eyes the same shade as Yggdra's, his voice easy. "Fantasinia has always championed peace. We see no need to disrupt it for the petty chance to colonize."

Alkimus narrowed his eyes, bit down on his lower lip, which was half-hidden in his beard, and strategically chose this moment to acknowledge Emilia. He broke into an expansive smile. "My darling, do you need something?"

Emilia bowed her head to King Ordene, a deeper a bow to the pope, then said in an unrecognizably polite voice, "I wished to bid you goodnight, Father."

Alkimus patted her cheek, which he hadn't done for years, as if to say _Could such a doting papa disrupt anyone's peace?_ "Sweet dreams, Emilia."

Emilia turned away and rolled her eyes at the three of them and their maneuvering - well, it came with the job of ruling a country, she supposed - then hurried back to her room. At a demure walk in very crowded hallways.

She dismissed Valena and changed out of her gown, wondering what Gulcasa wanted her to do. After a moment's thought, she put on her riding gear, then threw her nightgown on over it in case Valena came in for something. Then she turned down her lamp, climbed into bed, and waited.

So she was awake to hear the rasp of paper slid under her door.

She waited half a minute, then crept through the darkness to the door. In the strip of light from the outside hallway, she could see a short note. She angled it towards the light and read: _Window._

Pulling her nightgown over her head and grabbing her small mace, Emilia slunk to the nearest window and peeked out. The night was moonless. Her room was high above any ramparts; the nearest landing was a sloped roof ten feet below.

And there, hazy from the light of a window on the lower level, was a slight figure.

Emilia didn't pause to wonder if it were a trap. She opened the window and eased herself halfway out, dangling her legs down. After a moment, she felt two hands grasp her ankles. She almost shrieked in fear: one of the hands was a large, metal claw. But then she realized it must be one of her father's special forces. Only now wondering if she might be tricked by an enemy, she released the windowsill.

The woman below caught her and held her fast a moment, wordlessly warning her to be quiet. Emilia could see slightly more of her - short hair, a mask over one eye, the other eye flashing yellow. The assassin released her and cautiously moved down the roof, only beckoning Emilia until more than a minute had passed.

Emilia had no idea how to sneak out of a castle, so she followed the assassin as closely as possible, trying to mimic each movement and footstep. The assassin knew her way, somehow, and they moved through the pitch dark without attracting notice. Shortly, Emilia stopped feeling mortared stone under her feet; she felt dirt. Then grass. Then the air grew close and rustled, and she realized they were in a forest. The assassin took her arm with her clawed hand and murmured, "Step carefully, milady."

Well, she tried. The assassin couldn't keep her from tripping over logs and rocks, but she kept her from falling. And swearing. Every time Emilia pitched forward, the assassin clamped her claw over her mouth.

Eventually, she saw firelight flickering in the darkness. The assassin tensed and moved more carefully than before. Then, for no reason Emilia could account for, she relaxed just slightly and glided forward.

"Reporting, Your Highness," the assassin said as they stepped into the firelight, she finally releasing Emilia's face in order to genuflect.

Gulcasa himself knelt in front of a map alongside one of the dragoons from his personal unit. Neither were dressed in their platemail, but in lighter, less-conspicuous chainmail. Several more lightly-armored dragon knights stood at a distance, two more assassins even further from the firelight. Emilia could hear a hoof stamp in the darkness, and the irritated chuckle of a griffon. "Excellent work, Zilva." He gestured Emilia closer. "You're going to be my eyes tonight, Sister."

Emilia crouched down next to him, not bothering to hide her smile, gratified that, whatever Gulcasa was entrusting her with, it was secret and important.

The map showed the extreme west of Verlaine, its border with Fantasinia, and the Lennesey Mountains. Gulcasa pointed to their eastern foothills, to a loosely winding river. "Eight miles from here." He pointed to their own location, then drew his finger in a straight line back to the river, to a crescent lake that ran alongside. "How fast can you fly there?"

"Less than an hour, but if you want me to stay hidden..."

"We're allowing for three hours. Giving ample time for Zilva to scout from the ground. Likewise, I want you on the lookout from the air."

Emilia nodded. Her flight commander, Leris, had trained her what to watch for on lookout. "What'll I find at the oxbow lake?"

"A merchant's camp. You'll see a fire. Don't approach it, and try not to be seen. Wait, hold your lookout, and report to me." Emilia would've liked to learn more, but she sensed she'd be most useful obeying. She gave him a thumbs-up. Gulcasa looked past her and nodded to Zilva.

She rose. "Alara. Jula." With that, the three women slipped into the shadows.

Gulcasa had Emilia wait ten minutes before having a knight bring a griffon forward - a griffon she didn't recognize, who wouldn't instantly be associated with the princess of Bronquia. She mounted, the saddle little more than a leather pad with a girth. In lieu of stirrups, she buckled her thighs into leather loops attached to the saddle, giving her the best compromise between stability and mobility. Making sure her mace hung securely from her belt, she gathered up the reins and maneuvered the griffon around, studying the trees overhead so she'd be able to launch from the forest. Gulcasa repeated his instructions, then stepped well out of wing-range. Emilia tightened her legs, the griffon lowered herself - then leapt into the air, surging higher with each wing beat.

Emilia waited until she was high above the tree line before leveling off; in the black night, she'd be able to make out a campfire even at her highest altitudes. She studied the stars and tracked east, following the arc of the Raven constellation.

As she slipped through the night, Emilia wondered if she should feel more nervous, should rebuke herself. But it was hard. She felt safer in the air than on the ground. The only things that could hurt her were archers, mages and other griffon riders, and their visibility would just as low as hers. Of course, Gulcasa would be on the ground, in greater danger. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she again checked her direction by the Raven. The ground was opaque beneath her, trees rustling in the wind.

What was Gulcasa up to? Did Father know about this? Emilia chewed her lower lip. Was there some sort of plot Gulcasa didn't want Father knowing about? No, even if Father was unaware of it, Gulcasa would never act against his own family. She'd heard him talking with Baldus not long ago, about how his kin were as dear as Bronquia to him.

And another thing: She knew if Gulcasa were betraying someone, he wouldn't trick her into collaborating. He'd give her the honest choice of making herself a traitor.

She shivered. Gulcasa must know what he was doing. He'd never given her any reason not to trust her. Well, maybe the dead bear incident...

Something below snagged her attention. It was starlight, reflected and broken in the wide curves of the river. Emilia dropped altitude slightly, searching for an isolated crescent of the river - an oxbow lake. There was a light, as bright as a candle flame. She dropped further, seeing a small wagon, several shapes that were probably horses, and five or six people around the campfire. She made a broad loop, using the silhouette of the mountains as cover, then flew slowly in the direction from which she'd come, checking to see if any trouble had appeared behind her.

She continued making sweeps until she saw a light flare in the forest. Cautiously dropping altitude, she saw it was Gulcasa and his men, one of them carrying a torch. Gulcasa, on horseback, was hearing Zilva's report when Emilia flapped down, scattering leaves and putting out the torch. Emilia made her report while the dragon knights struggled to relight it.

"Excellent," Gulcasa said, his eyes catching the torch-flare. "We'll advance. Emilia, Zilva, you go ahead. Do not approach the camp until I arrive."

Valiantly holding back her questions, Emilia took to the air. Shortly, she saw the torch and four riders emerge from the forest. There was movement in the camp, three of the figures walking forward across the black field. She couldn't see Zilva or her women.

Gulcasa halted within shouting range of the camp, bringing his arm up. Emilia recognized the gesture from her training and flew down, landing not far from him. She drew her legs back on the griffon, signaling her to keep her wings extended, prepared either to attack or fly.

"Your Princeship," said the man in front, a simply-clad merchant who, from his words and his lack of a genuflect, clearly didn't deal much with royalty. "I have the packages you promised to buy."

"Let me speak to them," Gulcasa demanded.

The merchant gestured to his flunkies, who ran back to the fire. Emilia heard some quick talking - "We can walk on our own!" - and then the campfire was deserted as all four figures approached the prince. Gulcasa nodded the torch-bearer forward.

Emilia raised her eyebrows. The light showed the "packages" half in shadow - twin girls, blonde, blue-eyed and delicately featured. Their hair was matted, faces streaked with dust, and one had a broad, blistered gash down her cheek. They were about fifteen years old.

"What are your names?" Gulcasa asked, pitching his voice to a somewhat gentler tone.

"I'm-" The girl who spoke swallowed, as if trying to cover the rasp in her voice. "I'm Aegina, and she's Luciana."

Gulcasa turned to the merchant. "What else?"

"They have no other names," the merchant said. "I don't know how you knew about them, they're nothing but whore brats. Not famous or anything." He laughed. "I don't usually get such specific requests."

Gulcasa waited a beat and turned back to the twins. "What are your middle names?"

Luciana's eyes widened, and she gave Aegina a careful look before speaking. "Rune and Eine, sir."

"As he said," Gulcasa muttered, soft enough that only Emilia and perhaps his knights could hear. "Very well," he said more clearly. "Godard, pay him."

One of the knights rode toward the merchant, who gave the twins a distasteful look. "Not to criticize you, sir, but I could get you better virgins." His attention was on Gulcasa, so he didn't notice Godard's drawn sword. Emilia almost cried out to warn him.

And didn't.

Luciana flinched, and Aegina tightened her jaw as the merchant crumpled to the ground. As his flunkies turned to run, Gulcasa gestured two of his remaining knights forward, pursuing at a gallop. Then regarded the twins. "Don't worry. We're not going to harm you."

Aegina grabbed Luciana's wrist and glared.

"You see, I know who you are."

Aegina blinked, her face becoming sterner, as if she refused to believe. Luciana chewed her pinkie nail.

"Aegina Eine and Luciana Rune, firstborn children of Ordene Arn Artwaltz."

Emilia turned sharply to Gulcasa, no less surprised (rather more so) than the twins. "How did - _what?_"

"I'm told Luciana was born first. That would make you the heir."

Luciana spluttered, her voice harsh, as if she refused to believe any of this. "Yes, but Mum always said - we're bastards, aren't we? We have no rights!"

"Let us go!" Aegina demanded, though no one had restrained them.

Gulcasa cocked his eyebrow. "Legitimacy. Is Ordene no less your father than Yggdra's?" He smiled. "Regardless of how little your own people value you, I do not want to see either of you lost. Will you come with me?"

"Brother?" Emilia whispered.

He ignored her, steady under both of the twins' stares.

"Ordene-" Aegina said the name with no tenderness "-would just try to have us killed again. He's tried before."

"What?" Emilia asked, trying to think of Ordene, so soft-spoken, so courteous of Yggdra, seeking to murder his own children.

Everyone ignored Emilia. Gulcasa paused a moment, then dismounted, approaching by only a step. Even so, the twins stepped away. "You will have to keep your surname secret, for now. But-"

"You've got a plan," Luciana shot back. "I can tell." She held tightly to her twin's arm, either for security or to protect her.

"Yes," Gulcasa admitted. "But it's a better plan than the one that merchant had for you."

Aegina glanced at the merchant's corpse, tightening her lips, her shoulders trembling in a swift shudder. Luciana rested her forehead against her twin's for a moment, then said, "It can't be much worse."

"All right," Aegina muttered. "We'll go along. For now."

"I appreciate it." By then, the knights had returned from their duties. "Egar, let them have your horse. Emilia, I need you to scout our way west. I will have to drop these two off before we return to the castle."

Emilia rode close as he remounted. "What is going on? Ordene had - What are you planning?"

"I can't tell you now, we need to hurry back."

"But you will tell!"

He legged his horse around. "Yes, in time."

"How - how did you even know they existed?"

Gulcasa glanced back at the twins. "I have a thorough informant."

"That's not an answer, you nitwit!"

"Scout ahead," was his reply. And though he said it with a smile, it didn't give Emilia any consolation.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

"Your father will probably see you in a minute."

Emilia sighed dramatically, walking to the window in the anteroom. "Who's in there?"

"Eleazar and Radant," Baldus replied.

Crossing her arms on the windowsill, Emilia gazed out at the snowfall. With the heavy storms, many of her flight sessions had been canceled; as big as the castle's indoor rings were, they couldn't accommodate airborne griffons. This left her far too many hours studying with her tutor. Her father's summons had come as a welcome diversion, but now he was making her wait?

"Why aren't you in there?" she asked, not turning. Why should one of the Falcons be left out when two were already inside?

Baldus bowed his head; he was always so formal. "They have their own business with His Imperial Highness. However, I will be happy to wait until you've seen your father before meeting with him myself."

She gaze him a grateful smile, then drummed her blunt nails against the sill. Outside, she saw the slim figures of Aegina and Luciana walking across a snowy pasture. They'd been there three months, living as cared-for, if not particularly public, guests. Emilia had no idea what they did with themselves, had barely even talked with them. As for Gulcasa, he was still promising to explain everything - when he could. And maybe he did have some good reason for holding back, but she knew he enjoyed watching her flail.

The stone door to her father's study groaned open, and Radant and Eleazar stalked out, the archer and the necromancer barely sparing her a glance. Tossing one pigtail, Emilia walked into her father's study, not bothering to haul the door closed.

Alkimus sat at his desk, kneading his forehead, the broad fireplace at his back. Emilia sat down on his footstool. He regarded her a moment, then quickly gestured to the other side of the desk.

"What?"

"Do as I say." His voice was more weary than stern.

Indignant, she shuffled to the other side of the desk.

"Emilia Bronquiae." Though his words were formal, his demeanor remained subdued. "I have need of..." He trailed off, then started again. "I have been following your progress with great interest."

Emilia nodded blankly. This was nothing new, her father was never stingy with praise. Recently, Captain Leris had begun including her in teams that patrolled the borders; minor stuff, but very good for a rider only just twelve. She'd risen so fast she was training with fifteen year olds.

"And I feel a bit of responsibility would do you good." Emilia straightened and smiled. Alkimus gave a tight smile in response. "You will leave Captain Leris' tutelage and train directly under General Espria."

"Thank you!" She bounced on her feet, then realized what it would mean. "But I..."

The emperor raised his eyebrows.

"I'll be happy to do whatever you say," Emilia said quickly, unconsciously matching his formality for a moment. "It's just I'll miss the other girls. Flying out there on patrol and training all the time...you get close." Emilia didn't say that she lacked friends in the castle, but Alkimus already knew.

"I've thought of that. You'll be replacing Leris as a subdivision captain."

Emilia stared, turning his words over in her head, looking for any way she might've heard them wrong. "But - but Leris is a full rider."

"I've already made the promotion." Why was her father's tone so grim? "I expect you to rise to it."

"But-"

"Are you not a daughter of Bronquia?"

Emilia tightened her fists. "Of course!"

"And what is the Bronquian code? To give power to the strong. If I left Leris in command, even of a minor unit such as yours, I would be neglecting my duties."

Emilia took a deep breath, swallowing. "Thank you, Father." She bowed.

"You are dismissed." Then he gave her something closer to his old smile. "I'll see you at dinner."

As Emilia left the study, her brain wouldn't work half fast enough. She was a captain now. Captain Emilia. What would that mean? What did she have to do differently now? How would everyone treat her? Did it make all that much of a difference?

She didn't know she'd paused on the staircase until she realized she could hear voices from her father's study, him and Baldus.

"...will support Prince Gulcasa however I can."

"...hope they're only rumors... not as clear as it was."

She should've moved on, only her father's voice sounded even wearier than before. Abandoning her scruples, she moved slowly back towards the study.

"...prince seems preoccupied."

"I worry, Baldus." The emperor sighed. "There is more on his mind than his responsibilities."

"Perhaps he has some young conquest."

Alkimus laughed humorously. "I pray so. Grandchildren could do me no harm. No." A pause. "It's not that; I feel sure of it...There are times when...I wish Tritolma had not left so many questions unanswered. Had lived."

Another pause, then Baldus murmured, "I doubt she would share that sentiment."

* * *

Emilia headed to the mews early the next morning, wondering if her unit (now really_ her_ unit) would already know. She tried to brace herself. These girls were all older than her. Would they be jealous? But then, she was the princess, so would they pretend to be pleased in order to curry favor? Would they really be happy for her?

They certainly appeared to be. When Emilia came to Twit's stall, she found her flight partners waiting with a large honey-nut cake (her favorite). She accepted their congratulations, genuine or otherwise. Leris had been a restrictive commander, and none of them had been especially attached to her.

"So what're we going to do today?" one girl asked, tacking on, "Captain Emilia," for emphasis.

"Well, normally we'll be training in the units under General Espria-" quite a few hoots and hand-claps in response "-but she's training out west right now." Emilia had sat up nearly all night deciding what they'd do. "The weather's not too good, and since we're on our own for a bit, I thought we'd try some grounded maneuvers." She glanced around her unit. "And then raid the kitchens for more cake!"

Tacking Twit took barely ten minutes, and Emilia couldn't help striding a bit as she led her griffon from the mews, into the blustery winter air. Two units of Dragon Knights were maneuvering in the snow, the dragons' long tails plowing away deep drifts. She could hear Leon shouting drill commands in the largest indoor ring. The snowfall was light enough that they could practice outside, and she found her group ready and eager to test their new captain.

Halfway through the drills, Emilia acknowlegded this wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world. Just yesterday, she'd been these girls' military equal. She reminded herself that commanding them was not bullying them, but it didn't come easily, for her or them.

"_Captain_ Emilia!" snapped a voice from the fence.

Emilia was busy trading mace-blows with one of her team members. Hunching her shoulders - then un-hunching them - she turned in the saddle. The snowfall had thickened without her noticing. She searched the muddy ring, the fence, the griffon-mounted figure beyond.

She swallowed, half turning to her unit. "Keep drilling. This'll take a minute." Fat chance. They'd recognized the voice. They'd watch. Squaring her shoulders, consciously imitating Gulcasa when he reviewed his dragon knights, she rode to the fence. Snowflakes caught in her hair, sparkled across Twit's red and black feathers.

A woman in her late teens was mounted on the other side, her long black hair pulled tightly back, her eyes narrowed - perhaps - against the snow.

Emilia's instinct was to play friendly, as she'd done in the past. But she was a captain now, and she outranked this woman. She lifted her chin and did her best to speak calmly. "Hello, Leris."

The woman's eyes narrowed further at hearing her name without "captain". "Yesterday, I could've had your griffon killed for that."

Emilia took a steadying breath. She had to hold onto calmness. It rarely happened. "Do you have a reason to be here?"

"Do you?" she shot back. "Other than the fact that you're a princess, and Daddy couldn't bear to see his baby at the bottom of the heap?"

"Shut up!" Emilia's hands tightened on the reins, the griffon tensing. "Sorry if you're so lame you couldn't-"

"I have been training for thirteen years!" Leris shouted. "Why should some brat come along and take it all away from me just because she's a royal-"

"Sorry you've wasted your life, but the emperor appointed me and I don't see anyone else throwing a hissy fit!"

Leris laughed. "You think anyone's going to complain? You're a princess! All they can do is whisper about you. You have no military training, you've never done anything important. You don't deserve to muck stalls, let alone be a captain."

Emilia breathed hard, trying to calm back down again, to handle this intelligently. Should she have Leris court-martialed (did she have that authority?); should she have Leris' griffon ritually slaughtered, thus ensuring she had to leave the ranks (she didn't want to kill an innocent griffon); should she tell Espria and have her deal with it (that could be seen as weak)? What did her team already think of her? Did everyone agree she was too young to do this?

"Captain Emilia." Leris unhooked her mace and raised it. "I hope you're prepared to duel."

Emilia's thoughts stopped completely for at least a heartbeat. A duel? She'd seen a duel fought once, fairly amicably, with both parties walking away alive. Many duels she hadn't seen, ones that ended in death. Her father had been a famous duelist in his youth. Gulcasa had killed three men in three separate duels.

Unless she wanted to sound cowardly, there was no way of asking if Leris wished to duel to the death. Duels either ended in death or the participants eventually agreed to a truce. Sometimes both duelist died.

Emilia blinked snowflakes from her eyes. She didn't want this fight. She didn't want to kill Leris. She accepted killing people on the battlefield (though she hadn't yet), but dueling someone she knew, she'd trained under, felt too...close.

"Stupid. A duel won't get you your position back," she said.

"Will you accept?" Leris demanded, a sharp edge to her voice.

There was no honorable way to refuse, at least not in Bronquia. "Yes." As the challenged, it was her choice when and where. Five years from now? Twenty? No. Her team was watching. And once word broke out, many more people would be watching her movements, both as a princess and an officer. Alkimus and Gulcasa would be watching. "Three days from now. In the morning." She took a deep breath. "Here."

Leris rehooked her mace and turned without a word. Emilia watched her back until she rode into an indoor ring.

"Milady..." Emilia turned to see Stacia, the oldest girl in her unit, staring wide-eyed at her. "I'm - I'm so sorry."

"What?" Emilia knew she sounded dazed, but she couldn't think how to change that. "Did you do something?"

"No, I just... This is terrible."

Emilia turned to the rest of her unit. "It..." She took a deep breath. "It's part of the job." She squared her shoulders again; she couldn't think about this, not here, not now. "Keep doing the drill."

She knew word was spreading by the time her session was over. As she walked into the castle, she saw servants glance at her with more interest than usual, obvious appraisal. The higher-ups didn't appear to know yet, for which she was glad. She hurried past them, taking a familiar path to one of the hundreds of stone doors. It stood open, and she walked in without knocking.

Gulcasa noticed her almost immediately, slipping a heavily-stained book into his book case. His left wrist, sprained in a bout yesterday, lay in a sling across his ribs.

Emilia knew he was waiting for her to say something. She always said _something_. She crossed to his chair, trying to gather her thoughts.

"Brother... How do you kill someone?"


	8. Chapter 8

8.

The morning was too clear. Emilia leaned her forehead against the cold window pane, wishing there was snow, something to hide this.

A maid carried in her breakfast, taking extra time to examine Emilia, as though she were a curiosity behind glass. Emilia didn't turn to meet her eyes. When she was alone again, she walked to her small table and lifted one dish lid, then dropped it back over the creamy nut pastry. Her favorite breakfast. Maybe some cook had meant to be encouraging, but Emilia didn't want anything pleasant around her, anything that might be tainted by this morning. She tried the next dish - porridge with honey. She took a few spoonfuls, but it was too thick to swallow. She drank some coffee, for the first time not loading it with milk and chocolate. She was already dressed, had been for the last hour.

After a while, she realized there was no sense in waiting for someone to come collect her. She picked up her mace, frowning a moment at its steel spikes.

Paying attention to the tilt of her chin, the smoothness of her walk, Emilia left by the castle's main corridors; no one failed to notice her. Last night, she'd told Alkimus and Gulcasa she didn't want to see either of them before the duel, and she was grateful neither second-guessed her. Seeing them before the battle would remind her that she'd probably not be alive to see them afterwards. She refused to say goodbye.

Thoughts trickled into her mind, like water through a metal mesh. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to kill Leris. She didn't want to shame herself and her family by refusing a duel. She wasn't sure this was reason enough to risk two lives. She hoped - she hoped so hard - that Leris would yield before anyone was seriously hurt.

Because she knew she had too much at stake to yield herself. Leris, a simple rider, could disappear into obscurity if shamed. The princess of Bronquia never could.

A crowd had assembled at the practice ring. All of the Falcon Generals were there - Baldus, Darian, Eleazar, Radant, Marenka, Miles, Leon. Espria. Espria could've used her authority to stop this, but she made no move, her violet eyes on Emilia. Radant flashed Emilia a smile, and Baldus gave her a curt nod. Langford was there, fidgeting with the sash of his long jacket, and he seemed unable to look at Emilia. Eudy gossiped with her young husband. One of the twin sisters sat under the care of the Valkyrie Marenka, the other nowhere in sight. Valena's eyes never left Emilia, twisting her handkerchief into a taut cord. Emilia's unit had been forced to the rear of the crowd, but they set up a cheer for her, which was taken up by some of the others. Emilia tried not to tell who hadn't cheered.

Alkimus and Gulcasa stood at the front of the crowd, closest to the fence. Alkimus' face was lined, its grimness more apparent in the bright morning. Gulcasa had his arms crossed, sling vanished. His wrist must still hurt, but the imperial family would show no weakness at this duel.

Emilia didn't let herself approach them. She walked to where a groom held Twit, her saddle and bridle slung on the fence. At the other end of ring, Leris was already tacking her griffon.

They had to prepare their own mounts and equipment, to ensure nothing had been tampered with. Still trying not to think of anything but each task as it came, Emilia ran her hands down Twit's scaled forelegs, the heavily furred hind legs, searching for any obvious damage. The griffon was alert, turning her sharp head to the crowd, her ears swiveling to catch every sound. Emilia had the griffon spread her wings - no damage there either - then checked her tack, particularly the girth and leg straps. Everything was as it should be. Nothing to delay the duel, to give Espria another chance to stop this, or Leris to yield prematurely. She strapped the girth tight, glad her face was hidden for a moment. Would she die? What would happen then?

She couldn't hesitate in front of this crowd. She mounted, strapped her legs in, then turned her griffon to face the ring. Twit could feel her nervousness, her skin shivering over her muscles, under fur and feather. She lashed her horse-like tail against her hind legs. Across the ring, Leris unhooked her mace from her belt. Emilia made a point not to draw her weapon until the gate at her end had swung open and she'd ridden inside.

If this had been a simple sparring match, there would've been a third rider to ensure no one was killed. This was a blood match. All Espria did was walk to the fence. "Riders, face each other."

Emilia could hardly see Leris' face from the other side of the ring. The sky was flat, bright blue, the surrounding snow churned and dingy brown. Twit flexed her claws in the muddy ring.

"Maintain your fight within the ring's parameters." This only meant they weren't supposed to fly out of sight. Emilia tightened her hand on her mace, realizing that now, she really had to start thinking.

"Mark your enemy," Espria called out ceremonially. "Prepare for death." And then, "Fly."

Twit surged into the air, rushing through a torrent of wind, Emilia preparing for a quick attack. She heeled Twit forward, charging at Leris. At almost the same moment, the two griffons swung forward, almost vertical in the air, before they collided, dragging their claws into each other's stomachs, down their chests.

Leris kicked away first, angling her left side to Emilia, ropes of blood dribbling from her griffon. Emilia could feel blood splashed against her leg, but she didn't have time to check Twit's condition. Leris rose in a swift launch, flying directly into the sunlight.

"Damn," Emilia muttered, bringing her mace up, squinting, trying to track Leris. She knew she wouldn't be able to, and so she spurred Twit. Evasion was her best chance.

Leris dove without a sound, hitting her from above and to the right. Emilia saw her just in time, swinging her mace, clubbing the griffon across her face. Leris' own mace came down, Emilia's shoulder flaring with pain from one of its spikes. Crouching forward, Emilia went into a roll, images whirling in the corners of her eyes - the blue sky, the flash of the enemy griffon's wings, the crowd below, smaller than chessmen. What was her father thinking? Gulcasa? She wished her mother were still alive, then didn't.

When she came upright, Leris was swooping up from under, aiming for Twit's stomach. Risking another roll, Emilia followed it with a sharp swerve, ignoring the vertigo, shooting forward, slamming broadside into Leris' griffon.

The griffon squawked, flailing, falling for twenty feet before she righted herself. Emilia had already begun her next attack, and just as Leris stabilized herself, Emilia hit her from above and behind, Twit's claws and beak attacking Leris herself. Emilia ignored her scream, holding on until Leris lashed out with her club, then backwinging several yards to assess her enemy.

Leris struggled to sit straight, not looking at the six deep slashes down her back, bright scarlet in the light. After a moment, Emilia realized that Twit's hovering was off-balance; her left wing must be hurt. She blinked away sudden tears; she knew the crowd below would be able to see that her griffon's erratic flight, that she herself was in greater danger. Did they feel sorry for her?

Clenching her teeth, Emilia legged Twit into a frontal assault. Again, the two griffons attacked each other directly. Twit locked onto the other griffon's throat, wrenching it back and forth. One of the enemy griffon's claws plowed down Emilia's calf. She screamed, feeling the claws scrape her bone, and she knew the crowd could hear her scream, knew she was shaming her proud, imperial lineage.

The griffons disengaged, backwinging, Leris' coughing blood. Emilia refused to look at her leg, grateful for the straps that held in her in place. Twit was panting. Emilia's own breathing was so harsh she was half-hacking.

Leris' eyes fluttered; she seemed unable to focus. Emilia hesitated, waiting for her to call surrender. Leris seemed to read her thoughts and shook her head. Emilia set her jaw and dove.

She heard bone splintering, felt her mace hit muscle. Then, suddenly, there was empty space beside her. As Twit, bleeding from her shoulder, staggered to stay aloft, Leris and her griffon rolled down to the ground, feathers wheeling above them. Emilia was so high up that she didn't hear anything as they hit the dirty snow, fifty feet from the ring.

There was shouting - cheering? - outrage? Emilia's vision was graying. She had to land, fast. She sent Twit into a graceless drop, the griffon angling sideways, the wind too warm against her face. With a shudder, she realized Twit was standing in the ring, body trembling. Swallowing, Emilia raised herself, standing straight, facing the flickering, waving crowd. Slowly, she lifted her mace.

"Hold yourself up," she heard Gulcasa mutter. Where was he? People were on either side of her, talking quickly, saying something about her leg. Gulcasa's hand was at her back, helping to keep her upright. "Pick up your reins, we're leaving."

Emilia mechanically rehooked her mace and made a pretense of legging Twit into a walk. The crowd watched as she, her father, brother and Espria left the ring, heading for the castle.

There were fewer people to see them there. Wordlessly, Alkimus lifted Emilia and carried her into the castle, hugging her close for a moment. His face was stern, but he was crying. Gulcasa walked ahead of them, commanding a nervous page to get the imperial physician.

The next thing Emilia was aware of was lying in her warm bed, heavy blankets on top of her. Her body ached, and she could feel a thick bandage around her leg. Looking up at the ceiling, she could see Leris and her griffon spiraling away from her, hitting the ground. She was panting.

When she woke up again, she was shivering under her blankets, her body drenched with moisture. "Good," Valena said to someone she couldn't see. "The fever broke. She'll be able to sleep well now."

When she heaved her eyelids open for the third time, she saw that her window was white with falling snow. A fire jumped in her hearth, rolling its comforting smell towards her. Staring at it, she remembered, realized all she'd done.

There was the crackle of paper, a page being turned on her other side. Despite how much her head hurt, she wriggled around. As she moved, Gulcasa closed the book he'd been reading, seated on a chair by her bed.

"Do you want anything?" he asked, glancing at the water pitcher on her dressing table.

"I..." Emilia's voice scratched against her throat. "Did I...do all right?" She meant, _Did I do the right thing_, but she couldn't say it.

"You were superb," Gulcasa said warmly.

Emilia closed her eyes, afraid of the life she'd taken, proud that she'd brought prestige to her family. Her father would lavish praise on her later, she knew. But those tears... She'd made her father proud, but she'd also terrified him. She'd killed someone.

"Espria and Radant are calling you the Scarlet Princess."

Scarlet. Maybe it only meant her hair, or her red-feathered griffon. Maybe.

No.

Eyes closed, she freed her hand from the covers and found Gulcasa's.


	9. Chapter 9

9.

"How does it look?" Emilia suppressed a yawn.

"Some Fans to the west." Stacia did yawn as she made her report. "Tedra thinks some of them may have seen her, so we've pulled back to the shoreline."

"But nothing looks unusual? Great. We'll be heading back soon." Emilia moved Twit further into the shadow of Mt. Brongaadian's peak, her silhouette hidden by the surrounding rocks. Four nights out of the week, General Espria had her unit patrolling the Bronquian-Fantasinian border, which was amorphous at best. King Ordene claimed Fantasinia owned all the land right to the Talva River, which ran directly in front of Fort Ishnad. Emperor Alkimus insisted Bronquia's territory extended five miles to the east of the river and included the mountain range to the west of Karona. Which was exactly where Espria had placed Emilia's units, along with several others. Both countries knew the other had griffon patrols in the area, but both kept up the pretense they didn't.

Tired as she was, Emilia wouldn't drop off. All spring, her unit had been skirmishing with units from the Fantasinian Aerial Force. If her alertness could keep her from having to take lives unnecessarily - or even worse, seeing more of her own women fall - she'd stay awake. Since her duel, she'd killed four Fantasinian riders. The kills weren't easy, but they were becoming easier, both during the battle and afterwards. She wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

She'd asked Langford why these skirmishes hadn't provoked a war. He'd given her a sterile smile and replied, "As you've pointed out, the skirmishes aren't exactly on the record. Secondly, both countries are encroaching on each other's territories, so both are equally to blame. This doesn't make a firm rallying call for the people. But I imagine that when war is declared, it will be simultaneous."

War. Real battles. She patted Twit's neck, as if the griffon needed reassurance. Other people handled warfare. She could too.

The unit returned an hour after dawn, landing in the mews in a flurry of squawks, scraping claws, and feathers. Emilia stiffly dismounted and headed straight for her room. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, but Alkimus had stressed that her duties as a captain were not to interfere with her duties as a princess. So she had time for a bath and was just sitting down to her breakfast when Langford entered, heavy books under his arm.

"All right," he said. "Recite to me the Twelve Precepts of Empress Atalazia and then you may eat some toast."

Ten minutes later, Emilia was rattling off the seven provinces of ancient Bronquia (so she could refill her cocoa mug), when Valena ran through her open door. "Princess!" Her eyes were wide, hands clutched together. "You need to come to the dragon stables."

Training as a captain had moved Emilia past the blinking and staring stage. She was on her feet immediately, and asking questions as she hurried into the corridor. "It's Brother? What's wrong?"

"Something may be very wrong very soon." Valena wadded up half of her long skirts and carried them under her arm, the better to run. Langford was jogging behind, trying to keep up. "The training started out normally, but - there was a problem - "

"Darian?" Langford asked sharply, which surprised Emilia. As well as she knew Gulcasa, she hadn't made the mental leap.

"You mean-?" Emilia bared her teeth. "_Crud_."

A crowd was already gathering, and Emilia swiftly saw that_ crud_ didn't begin to cover it - she didn't even know the word that would cover it. A dragon was screaming.

"Stay back!" Marenka the Valkyrie shouted. "This is the prince's affair!"

Behind her, Langford breathed a word that Emilia hadn't heard before, but knew suited the situation better.

"Damn you, aren't you going to intervene?" Espria shouted to someone. "You can't just-"

Baldus cut across Espria. "This is theirs to handle."

Emilia lowered her head and shoved her way through the crowd. In the corner of her eye, she saw a wedge of six knights cantering towards the commotion, Leon at their head. A dragon roared, and something heavy hit the ground. Emilia smacked into Luciana - unless it was Aegina - whichever it was didn't notice her, staring at the center of the gathering. Squeezing around Baldus, Emilia pulled to a halt, biting her lip.

Darian's gray dragon had dragged itself upright, a wide gash in its side, ripped almost to the entrails. Darian, shieldless, held his scythe in both hands.

Gulcasa tightened his reins, keeping his dragon well in check as he watched Darian laboriously turn. "It is best," he said after a moment, eyeing his master, "to kill your opponent with a single decisive stroke."

"Leon-" Espria's arms were trembling. "Ride in there and stop them!"

Leon was grinning, teeth bright beneath his black visor. "If the prince feels the need to stretch his scythe arm, I will not stop him."

"He almost killed you once!" Her voice was shrill. "How can you stand by and-" She cut off as Darian made his charge, his mount's gait uneven. Almost leisurely, Gulcasa sidestepped the attack, swung his scythe, and drove its steel arc into the gray dragon's back. It toppled a second time, the ground vibrating.

Gulcasa watched for a moment, a smile on his lips, his eyes unfeeling gold. "Who will put it out of its misery, you or I?"

Darian barely managed to scramble away from the dragon before it rolled to its side, groaning. The Dragoon Master slowly raised himself, teeth clenched with pain. He leaned on his scythe.

"Prince of Bronquia," he panted, "I yield."

Gulcasa leaned back in his saddle, the butt of his scythe on the ground, like a rod of state. "I do not recall that we opened this fight with the formality of a duel."

"You attacked him!" Espria screamed. Emilia realized that Radant and Eleazar had appeared and they were restraining Espria.

"Furthermore," Gulcasa continued, his voice smooth, almost affectionate, his hair stirred by a wind Emilia couldn't feel, "power belongs only to those who can hold it. I believe your grip is-" the scythe swung lightly around, knocking Darian's weapon out of his hand "-slack."

"I yield!" Darian's thin voice shook.

"Yield to death." He punched the spike on his scythe into Darian's stomach. Emilia looked away even as he drew his arm upwards.

"There now!" Langford said sharply. "You need to see this."

Irate with Langford - nauseated - Emilia opened her eyes and turned back. Darian's corpse had fallen forward, hiding the wound. Gulcasa had turned to face the crowd.

"People of Bronquia!" His voice rang out. "You heard this man's crime, his utter contempt for our sacred homeland. Who shall blame me for driving the poison from our nation's heart?" He looked directly at Espria, his eyes like metal.

Fists trembling, she abruptly swung around and stalked away. Radant and Eleazar glanced after her, then gazed steadily at Gulcasa.

"Darian the Shit Bag's dead," Leon drawled. "I think a few hurrahs are in order."

"If Darian had won," Gulcasa continued, speaking to the crowd, "I would have submitted myself to the same debasement. By my arm, I have proven my right to lead the Dragon Knights. Fate blesses the strong, and I intend it shall bless Bronquia!" He shoved his scythe into the air.

Most of the crowd cheered, though it was uneasy. Emilia hesitated, then raised her fist.

Gulcasa rode out of the ring, close enough for Emilia to study his face - normal again. No more of that strange, bright energy she'd seen when he fought. But she was still alarmed. She couldn't run up to him and demand answers in front of the crowd. She stood by Langford, only a spectator.

"What happened?" she asked Valena once they and Langford were back in her room. "How did it start?" It wouldn't have taken much, Emilia thought. Gulcasa had hated his commander since childhood, and Darian had never endeared himself to the prince.

"I wasn't very close. I heard he-" The handmaid's eyes darted around the room. "He said something about the prince's mother."

Emilia caught her breath.

"At first, it looked like they'd settle it in a simple sparring bout. But then the prince, he - I've never seen anyone attack like that. It was clear he meant to hurt Darian, so I ran for you..."

"A lot of good I was," Emilia muttered. She hadn't even thought of intervening. She broke away from the two of them. "I need to talk to him."

"My princess," Langford said suddenly. "Be careful. The prince is..." He swallowed, obviously searching for the correct word. "...unpredictable."

Emilia's chin jutted out. "_I_ am not his enemy." And she hurried out of the room. Gulcasa's power - No, she wasn't in any danger. She had to believe that. He was simply a fierce warrior. As he should be. Both of them were descended from hundreds of fierce warriors.

And he was descended from a woman with slit pupils. A woman with the eyes of a dragon.

She realized she was running through the corridors.

Gulcasa's door was closed. She banged with the knocker. "Let me in!" She waited, then was about to knock again when the door opened.

Gulcasa had only had time to remove his helmet and loosen his breastplate. He was sweaty, his eyes heavy-lidded with fatigue. He rubbed his forehead, then seemed more alert. "Well?"

Emilia stepped inside and he closed the door. She paced around his room, everything familiar. "I know you hated that creep. And - and I see why you killed him. But why this way? In front of everyone? You could've formally initiated a duel, and then-"

"Emilia." He sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of his bed. After a moment, he unbuckled one gauntlet and rotated his wrist. "Formality has its uses, but I have no time for it. Not now."

Emilia frowned. "Is this part of the plan you won't tell me about?"

Gulcasa rubbed his face again, ran his hand through his hair. "It's all a plan. You. Me. My mother. Fantasinia."

"What?"

He shook himself. "I should start somewhere else, I suppose." He fell silent for a long time.

Deciding that he wouldn't say anything else about the plan, Emilia asked, "Why did you choose now?"

Gulcasa looked up quickly. "Darian chose his death. He said - Never mind. Anyone who repeats it shall die."

Emilia frowned again, the softness in her voice surprising her. "Brother?"

The door was shoved open. Gulcasa rose as Emilia turned, both of them facing their father. Emperor and heir regarded each other a long moment, Alkimus' face deeply lined and stern, Gulcasa's eyes narrowed, defiant.

Alkimus slowly closed the door behind him and strode towards Gulcasa. "Well now?"

"It was a magnificent battle," Gulcasa said blandly. "You would have been proud to see it."

"The strength of your arm is not the point," Alkimus retorted. "Why have you done this?"

"Darian shamed you and our family in front of the Dragon Knights. Would you have let him keep his post?"

Alkimus studied Gulcasa's face minutely, jaw tense. "You are not a fool, Gulcasa. No doubt he deserved his death. But he had many supporters, and you have enemies enough."

Emilia tensed, but didn't speak.

"If they support a traitor, I will be pleased to deal with them," Gulcasa replied.

"Hmph." Alkimus put his hand on Gulcasa's shoulder, holding him at arm's length. "Doubtless, you have won support for such an impressive duel." After a moment, he clasped Gulcasa to him, something he hadn't done in more than ten years. Even Gulcasa was disarmed, his eyes wide, almost frightened.

Alkimus drew away. "Keep your strength. You will have much need of it." Gulcasa hesitated, then nodded. "Well," Alkimus said after a deep breath, "I now require a Master of Dragoons." Gulcasa leaned forward. "I do not think it would be politic to raise you so soon after Darian's death. But it won't be long before you are a Falcon General." He clapped Gulcasa's shoulder, then seemed to finally notice Emilia. "Hello, dear."

"What about Espria?" Emilia asked. "What're you going to do about her?"

Alkimus smiled tightly. "Let me worry about her. Gulcasa, come to me after you've cleaned up." His voice took up some of its former sternness. "We still have things to discuss."

When they were alone again, Gulcasa drew a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Were you worried?"

He opened his eyes. "I wasn't sure what to expect. I thought I'd have to argue my case more."

"I suppose Father didn't like Darian much either." Or his pride for his son was greater. She stepped closer. "You have enemies? What did he mean by that?"

"Power always has enemies." He unbuckled his other gauntlet. "You have enemies, though they may never strike at you."

But now Gulcasa had even more enemies. Emilia pressed her lips together, eyes determined. After a moment, she helped him with the side clasps on his breastplate, slipping the metal shell off of him. "Can I help with this plan of yours?"

"In time." He thought a moment, then gestured her to sit on a nearby chair. "Listen, Emilia," he said, "do you know the Dragon Circle?"

"Sorta. I mean, Langford's mentioned it. It's a group of writings about the dragon Brongaa. They're called a circle because each one refers to all the others."

Gulcasa set his breastplate on its stand, his tone leading. "The dragon Brongaa who..."

"Who ruled thousands of years ago."

Gulcasa had sat on his bed to remove his sollerets. "And..."

"Um... Well, his capital was around here. Mt. Brongaadian's named for him, also Brongaaliar Canyon."

"Also our country. It was originally Brongaaia. And because Father's line was named for Bronquia, we both share the dragon's name."

"Okay..." Gulcasa's plan involved history lessons?

She didn't notice how carefully he watched her reactions. "Do you know anything else about Brongaa?"

"He's called the Dragon of Purgatory because he wanted to cleanse the world. No one knows how or why, because he was sealed by the gods before he could try it."

"That's right." Gulcasa put his greaves to the side, now only wearing a simple tunic and trousers. "But there's one part of the story everyone always forgets." He paused for effect. "He could take the form of a man."

Not sure why, Emilia fidgeted. "So?"

"It means that he fell in love with a human woman and had a child. Who grew up and had a child-"

"Waitwaitwait-" tumbled out of Emilia's mouth. "How do you know? And how can you be sure - You're talking about your mother's family, aren't you?" Somehow, she wanted, desperately, for him to be mistaken.

"I've researched this for several years." Gulcasa's tone softened marginally. "It's all true."

"Y-your mother was descended from..." Emilia jumped to her feet and began to pace. "S-so what? What does that mean about you?"

"I'm still not sure." Gulcasa rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I'll know soon, but... I have plans." Seeing Emilia wheel around, he rose. "This is enough for now. Father's expecting me. But first I have my own question. Emilia." After waiting for her pacing to slow, he took her shoulders. "What does this mean for _you_?"

Emilia stared up into her brother's face, the face of a child of Brongaa. Even with this knowledge, it was no less familiar. "I'm confused," she said after a long moment. "But I won't turn on you, if that's what you're afraid of." After a moment, she rallied. "You shouldn't have to ask, you dummy!"

Gulcasa grinned, not at all the expression of a man who had murdered hardly an hour earlier. He pushed her gently to the door. "I'm sure Langford's itching to resume your history lesson. Though - I trust you won't share all the history you've learned."

Emilia half-smiled, half-grimaced, and left.

* * *

Langford came in early during Emilia's lunch, and she couldn't help glaring at him over her chicken dumplings. "You'll be interested to know," Langford said, "that General Espria - now merely Espria - has left Flarewerk, as have her three personal units."

"Father'll hunt them down." She reached for her napkin. "Why was she so upset?"

Langford glanced at Emilia with some surprise. "She and Darian were lovers."

Emilia sipped her drink. She couldn't imagine dry, humorless Darian as anyone's lover. "Well, you didn't have to come so soon. Can't I at least have half an hour before my next lesson?"

"There will be some reshuffling in the aerial divisions," Langford said leadingly. "I think you had better get a head start on your studies."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Emilia Bronquiae, thirteen-year-old captain of three divisions in the Imperial Aerial Forces, was neglecting her duties. She wasn't even skiving off to do something fun. She was staring blankly into a roaring hot fireplace. She hardly noticed it.

She felt the air move as Gulcasa stalked past her, fetching water from her father's pitcher, then moving back to the bed. Cloth shifted - Gulcasa kneeling, Alkimus trying to lift himself to drink.

Her father's health had been declining for years, the physician had told her. Hadn't he been irritable, absent-minded? Emilia shook her head. She'd thought he'd only been growing older.

She turned enough that she could see them out of the corner of her eye. Gulcasa still knelt, almost ceremonially, but he clasped Alkimus' hand with both of his own. The emperor spoke faintly, and Emilia strained to hear.

"...have to be careful..." Gulcasa murmured something reassuring in response. "You must...assert your right quickly...Do not wait for...the mourning period to end."

"With your blessing, Father."

"And... I must tell you, while I still have my wits." The emperor took a deep breath. "Your mother bid me tell you." Gulcasa leaned forward, and Emilia had turned completely. Alkimus' voice came fluently, as though he had practiced saying this many times. "Be wary when you enter the Obsidian Castle to claim your birthright as emperor. There are...other birthrights, and the black spire is not merely a tomb."

Gulcasa considered that a moment. "I understand, Father. Do not be afraid to leave the empire to me."

Alkimus sighed, then looked past him. "Emilia." He reached a hand toward her, and she approached, Gulcasa stepping aside so she could kneel. She swallowed, hard, trying to look as calm as the two of them. "Your burdens won't be as heavy as Gulcasa's. Help him bear them." Emilia bit her lip, then squeezed her father's hand. "Gulcasa, you must protect her. Protect each other."

* * *

Emilia kept her head bowed, hiding her face, not caring that her tiara slipped forward. She breathed shallowly - it was all she could do to breathe within the Obsidian Castle. A small crowd stood assembled in the spire's lowest chamber, the large crypt. Bronquian imperials surrounded her: some lay on ornately carved shelves, only dingy bone, their shrouds withered away. Others had been cremated, their bones interred inside glass reliquaries arranged within families. For a time, both bodies and bones had been burnt to ashes and only the skulls remained, arranged in lines, still wearing their crowns and coronets. More recently, the imperials had been given sepulchers, lying alongside each other like beds in a nursery.

Emilia studied it bleakly. She'd been here once before. The imperial consorts were burned, their bones placed in gold and silver boxes with their names inscribed on the lid. She searched, looking for her mother's... There, the silver box with a lily beneath her name. Beside it was another box of reddened gold, its lid adorned by an etched dragon.

Alkimus lay within his sepulcher, the marble lid closed; it had been carved to show pictures from her father's life: his early takeover of the Veriden Islands to the west, the first of his great duels, his marriages. The final picture showed him enthroned, two smaller figures at his feet. There was little resemblance, but she knew they were herself and Gulcasa.

Her brother finished saying the rites over the sepulcher, then stood beside her, looking distant in his black ceremonial cloak and circlet, its silver oily in the firelight. She knew that part of his mind wasn't on the funeral, was thinking about how soon he'd reenter the Obsidian Castle and take his crown.

Finally they left the spire, chaining its doors closed behind them. Emilia quietly drew in deep breaths, both relieved the funeral was over and miserable. She left the mourners as soon as she could, running to her empty rooms. When she arrived, she didn't know why she'd hurried; there was nothing here she particularly wanted. She paced, pulling her tiara free from her hair, then jerking off her dress, pacing in her shift. After a moment, she poked the hearth, though it wasn't a cool day, coaxing up a small fire. She paced further, not thinking, letting images play through her mind. Mostly she saw the crypt, the top of the sepulcher, over and over again. She knew she'd be crying later. Probably at night, when she'd have to climb into bed and be still in the darkness.

Emilia stopped her pacing abruptly, then crossed to her back room, which served as both a closet and storage room. She twisted around the various trunks, coming to a familiar one at the back. It opened easily, and she only had to rummage for a moment before she grasped something soft and furry.

She pulled Bunny free by his left leg, then turned him upright. His fur was flecked with dust, the rip of his right eye as sad as ever.

She returned to her main room, pacing, the plush bear held to her chest.

* * *

"Princess Emilia."

Emilia looked up from the request she was drafting for newer equipment for her riders, seeing one of the castle guards in her doorway. "What?" She swallowed. Her voice was still rough from crying last night. Valena had told her that she had every right to mourn, but even today, the day after the funeral, she wanted to be too busy to think about her father.

The guard bowed jerkily. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but His Highness wishes to see you."

"Hmph. Now that he's almost emperor, he doesn't want to come see me himself?" But no, she decided as she rose, he probably had a good reason for summoning her. She strode out the door, the guard following after her. She turned. "I know the way by myself."

The guard, fumbling with something in his pocket, moistened his lips. "Er-"

Then he shoved a rag to her face, the two halves of her brain were pried apart, and she was out.

* * *

Emilia groaned, throat raw, nose running. Her cheek lay against silk. Trying to open her eyes sent a dozen pain points shooting through her forehead. After a moment, she tried again, the world too bright and fuzzy at first.

_Why do I feel like I've been put through a clothes wringer...?_

Realization swept through her, she bolted upright, and that was enough to make her black out a second time.

* * *

The headache was just as bad when she awoke next, but this time, she remembered immediately. Moving as little as possible, she opened her eyes and surveyed her condition.

She lay on a comfortable, though unfamiliar, bed in a small round room - so she was high in a tower. There was a kerosene lantern turned low on a small table by her bed; the other sources of light were a row of slit windows around the crown of the room. There was a carpet across the stone floor, a small dresser, and a chair with a threadbare cushion. The door was wooden and reinforced by iron bands.

_I'm in one of the tower storerooms. And I guess whoever put me here wants me to be comfortable._

She closed her eyes, hoping that would help her ignore the pain pulsing in her forehead. _The guard said Brother wanted me to come... It was a set-up. Unless Gulcasa has some plan for me up here, but he thinks I wouldn't go along with it at first, so he has to kidnap me...? No, okay, there's some coup and I've been nabbed._

_I can not lie in bed with a headache while there's a coup going on._

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself into a sitting position - then slumped against the bed's headboard, waiting for the room to stop rocking back and forth. While she had her eyes closed, the heels of both hands pressed against her forehead, she heard the door grind open.

The same guard stepped in, carrying a tray. He saw she was awake, grimaced, then set the tray down and leapt back through the door, slamming it shut.

Emilia was in no mood to check out the tray. She leaned the back of her head against the cool wall and tried to think. She could probably reach one of the windows with a bit of maneuvering, but they were far too thin for her to crawl through. Maybe she could widen one somehow...? She heard a rumbling. Was it the door? No. Was it just in her head? It was slowly growing louder.

Again the door opened. Emilia tried to think of something scathing to say, but surprise made her bite her tongue.

"How are you feeling?" Langford asked kindly, shutting the door, picking up the tray and walking to her bedside. "I imagine you have a punishing headache. Chloroform's not pleasant." He set the tray down. Boysenberry pancakes.

"What-" Her words slurred, so she started again. "What's going on? Are we under attack?"

"Yes." Langford folded his hands and sat in the chair. "It seemed best to move you to safety. There was no time to answer questions."

Emilia finally realized the rumble she'd been hearing was people moving, shouts. "Is there...there's a battle? I - I need to help. Get me something for my head."

Langford didn't obey. Slowly, through the headache, Emilia registered that this was odd. Ignoring the pain as well as she could, she turned to face him, unblinking. "What's going on?"

"I already told you-"

"Who's attacking?"

"Please, my princess, rest yourself-"

_"Who is attacking?"_

Langford smiled sadly. "Your brother."


	11. Chapter 11

11.

"No," Emilia said, voice shaking.

Langford didn't tell her to calm down, merely putting his hand on her arm.

Emilia dug her nails into her palms. "My brother would never hurt me."

"My princess." Langford's voice was soft. "He is, at this moment, assaulting Castle Bronquia. He has turned the Dragon Knights against us, and three of the Falcons have joined him."

"But he - he wouldn't, he's my-" Emilia cut herself off, going over what Langford had said. At the same moment, Langford blinked and drew back from her, probably realizing his blunder.

"Turned against _us_?" Emilia repeated. She didn't even notice her headache. She narrowed her eyes, drawing herself up. "Just who is _us_?"

Langford folded his hands. "Are you going to listen to me, or are you going to blow up?"

"This isn't some history lecture, Langford! What's hap-" She was cut off by the sound of a battering ram hitting some distant section of the castle.

"Damn!" Langford glanced over his shoulder. "They're that close?"

"Answer me!" Her head was throbbing again.

"My princess-" Langford kept his tone even, but his words were more hurried "-you have been brought here for your own safety. Surely you've noticed the prince's violence of late, his-"

"Stop covering what you want to say. I mean it!"

Langford took a quick breath. "Surely you've noticed the prince is not human."

Another bang from the ram.

"My father was human." She was clutching the edge of her blanket.

"Yes, and his first wife carried the blood of a monster. And she has passed that on to-"

Closer to them, somebody shouted a command.

"We had hoped," Langford continued, "that the prince would not prove dangerous. But - Darian's slaughter is only the last of it. Our fears have been confirmed, and there is no way we can let him take the throne."

"Tell me everything you've done, you bloodsucking traitor!" Emilia bared her teeth. "_You_ started this, didn't you?"

"I am no traitor to Bronquia," Langford fired back. "And yes, you may freely accuse me of taking the preemptive strike. By rights-" more shouting from below "-it should not have come to this."

"All right." Emilia breathed harshly. "Fine. Kill me, get it over with, if you wanna rule Bronquia yourself."

"Please, princess, I am a better scholar than that. All of us are, and we have no desire for anarchy. We will have a legitimate monarch."

Emilia could hear people running below her, on one of the walls.

"We will need time," Langford said, "to prepare you for the Obsidian Castle."

Emilia shot to her feet - and overbalanced. Langford put out his arm to help her, but she smacked it aside, harder than she thought she could. "If you think I'm going to betray my brother-"

"You'd rather betray your people?" Langford held his arm, grimacing. "Stand by while they're domineered by a monster?"

"He's not a monster! And you're a-"

The door flew open. An archer leaned inside. "Sir Langford, General Radant needs you!"

Langford swore, then glanced at Emilia. "Try to calm yourself, princess." And as he strode out, "I want six men on this door."

Emilia lunged forward, trying to escape after him, but the archer easily shoved her back inside, slamming the door shut.

* * *

When Emilia stood on her bed to reach one of the narrow windows, vertigo overwhelmed her. She dropped to her knees and narrowly missed cracking her head open against the wall. She leaned against that same wall, listening. The sounds of battle were growing fainter. Surrender? No, probably the battle had shifted locations, or the forces were withdrawing momentarily.

_Gulcasa is not a monster._ She kept forcing that thought through the tangle of pain in her mind. _Gulcasa is not a monster. He's besieging home because they've done something. They've betrayed him. Langford and Radant and - who else?_ Langford had said three of the Falcon Generals fought with the prince. Eleazar and Radant were close; she couldn't imagine them fighting each other. The Valkyrie Marenka was volatile, but she also loved justice; she'd probably side with Gulcasa. As for Miles the master swordsman... He was practical; he'd follow whoever he thought would win. Leon wanted bloodshed, plain and simple. His choice wouldn't be troubled with ideas of fairness. Baldus had been supremely loyal to her father, so he'd follow whoever he thought would best carry on Alkimus' legacy. That could be either Gulcasa or Emilia...

_Emilia? Damn, these idiots, they're fighting Brother under my name!_

Did that make her Gulcasa's enemy?

No. He had to know her better than that.

How could she keep them from using her?

Emilia glanced around the room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze fell to the tray. There was a fork.

She stuffed it in her pocket, then rolled up one of the pancakes and chewed. It was stale, probably cooked at least a day ago, before the siege started. No knife. She could sling the plate at someone. What else?

She opened all the drawers, but they were filled with plain clothes. How long were they going to keep her here? She checked behind the furniture, even felt around the mattress. No benefactor had left her a hidden weapon. She undid her pigtails (_Maybe_ she'd be able to bind someone with the hairties. It couldn't hurt to try). Like most nobles, she usually carried a knife in her boot, but it had been taken. Flumping back onto the bed, she finished off the pancakes and drank a little of her lukewarm milk. Then, taking a steadying breath, she made another try at the windows.

She could reach high enough to hook her fingers on one's windowsill. She tugged. Of course no stones came loose; if the tower were that flimsy, it would crumble at any moment. She felt along the edge. The window was a foot wide, if that. Even she, as small as she was, wouldn't fit through.

So she sat down and again leaned her ear against the wall, listening for the sounds of battle.

* * *

Having so little to focus on, she was extremely aware of the light, the way it shifted throughout the day. She must have woken some time after noon, because the light grew reddish and slanted, painting long shadows across her already-dark floor. She'd turned down her lamp, but she soon needed it again as the light grew purplish, then colorlessly dark.

She thought she heard something moving on the other side of the wall, air currents. Just the wind? Tentatively, she stood and placed one hand on the nearest windowsill.

"Captain Emilia?" a woman's voice whispered.

"Stacia!" She slapped the sill. "Right here!" She could clearly hear and feel the griffon's wing beats now. "What's going on? You'd better have sided with Gulcasa!"

"Yes, milady, we joined him as soon as we learned you were captured." Stacia laughed. "Your tutor tried to tell us that you were going to crown yourself, but we know you better than that."

"What's going on out there? I can't get out."

"I bring a message from the prince. He says-" At the time, Emilia didn't hear the twang of the bowstring, but when she dreamed about it later, she always thought she did. Stacia didn't scream, just made a soft shriek.

"Stacia? Stacia!"

There wasn't an answer, and the wing beats were growing fainter.

In short order, Langford came to question her about the visit. She threw the rest of her milk into his face.

* * *

She must have dozed, because the next thing she registered were footsteps quickly crossing the room. She twitched away from the wall she'd been slumped against, eyes open. Generals Radant, Eleazar and Miles all sank into genuflects, the obeisance to a future empress.

"Stop it!" Emilia snapped before any of them could say anything. "I'm a princess and that's all I'm going to be so stop being such - such-" Swearing had never been her strong suit. "-poop heads and-"

"Princess Emilia," Radant cut in, "Sir Langford wishes to parlay with the enemy, and he feels your presence would - would persuade Prince Gulcasa to a more peaceful resolution."

"You can carry me in dead if you want, but I'm not coming!"

Radant glanced at the other two, who stood at the same moment and stepped towards her.

* * *

"I hate these lulls," Leon muttered, guiding his blood-streaked horse around a makeshift pile of corpses. The defenses around Flarewerk were excellent, but Gulcasa, in the first rush when Miles, Eleazar and Radant had tried to destroy his Dragon Knights, had not been pushed outside of the city. After a quick recovery, he'd gathered his allies (a rather quick and haphazard process) and taken command of the city, from which he lay siege to Castle Bronquia.

The castle itself was really a very comfortable fortress, but both armies knew it almost to its last detail. Radant was exploiting every resource towards its defense, including the dead.

"Damn necromancer. We need to kill Eleazar, Gulcasa," Leon said. "The more men we kill, the more zombies he has each night. And as fun as it is to kill them the first time, they don't bleed as skeletons."

Gulcasa tipped his head back, studying his home. His dragon rested at ease, its head lowered, its breath fuming in the night. Behind him, Baldus also rode forward, his beard flecked with blood.

"Why are they calling for a parlay anyway?" Leon curled his lip. "They know we're not going to surrender, and I wouldn't use their white flag for an asswipe. They should be killed, every whore's son of them."

"No need to guess what they're up to," Gulcasa drawled, seeming unconcerned. "A trap, or some contrivance. Let them congratulate themselves with the element of surprise." He pulled up his dragon's head, the beast gathering itself, lashing its tail, causing Leon's horse to sidestep. "It's almost time. Both of you, away! Be ready."

The Black Knight and the God of War simultaneously wheeled and cantered back to their lines. Gulcasa had arrayed his army in front of Flarewerk's inner wall, the first defense for the castle itself. He scanned the edge of the battlements, locating the cannons, wishing Eudy had disarmed more than half of them before escaping to his side. He'd deliberately left the walls intact, not wanting to damage his own stronghold. He held the city and its supplies, he could simply starve the defenders out... But he wanted to end this quickly.

Gulcasa stood at the head of his army, an easy target. Behind him, his bannerman held a spear from which Bronquia's flag hung. And behind him, Gulcasa's force which, as the siege continued, had grown larger.

Sounds came from the wall, several men marching forward, moving in and out of the light from the high flaming torch stands. They stopped above the gate, lit by two torches: Langford, Radant and Miles. A small bound figure, blindfolded and gagged, stood between Miles and Radant, her long scarlet hair stirred by the wind.

"The newly-crowned Empress of Bronquia," Radant's voice rang out, "bids you lay down your arms."

Gulcasa laughed. "Yes, I can hear her speaking quite loudly." At his laugh, she'd begun struggling between her captors, hair flying.

"You would force our hand?" Langford demanded, reaching into his robe. A small flash of metal caught the light, sparkling in his grip. "As you can see," Langford said dispassionately, "I am prepared to take Her Imperial Highness' life, if I feel that I have no hope of stopping you. Surely you can assuage my fears, Prince Gulcasa."

The dragon shifted his weight as Gulcasa studied the knife, the four suddenly still figures. His eyes were tensed, perhaps with fear. Then he smiled and reached one hand back, grasping the flag. "Royal tutor, brave defenders of Bronquia! Allow me to surrender the flag of my country to you!" And he threw the banner. Its spearhead pierced the young empress through her skull.


	12. Chapter 12

12.

Emilia screamed, but no one faltered as they hauled her through the chained doorway, into the stifling Obsidian Castle and its crypt. She threw her weight into her legs, trying to drag her heels, wrap a leg around something that could anchor her. Her leg flailed out and toppled one of her ancestor's skulls, his crown clanging across the stone floor.

"Don't make me summon them to reprimand you," Eleazar snapped, directing the guards to the back of the chamber.

Emilia continued to strain against them, hardly thinking. "Mother - Father -" Her mother was only bones, her father rotting in his sepulcher. She was only a few feet away from them, but they'd never help her.

"Let her stand, but do not release her." The necromancer was breathing hard, as they all were. The air felt as thick and cold as mud. "Princess Emilia, you will now ascend the Obsidian Castle and take your crown."

Emilia twisted between the guards. She still had the fork in her pocket. Just one good jab into Eleazar and she'd feel that much better. "No way! Why don't you just kill me where it's nice and convenient?"

"You speak so lightly of death, princess." Eleazar clenched his fists. "Do you know how many people have died for you these last three days?"

"I never told anyone to go to war. This is all your fault!"

"Unless you want those deaths to be wasted, you will go up there and take the crown!" Making a quick gesture to the guards, he turned away. They released Emilia so suddenly she almost fell. Catching herself, she stumbed into a run after them, but the door was flung shut in her face. She heard the harsh rasping of chains on the other side.

Emilia braced her arms against the door, puffing for breath, waiting for Eleazar to give some parting jibe from the other side. It was quiet, which made the air seem thicker, gave her the time to feel the sweat beading down her neck. She was suddenly afraid, as childish as she knew it was, to look around the tomb, at the bodies directly behind her. All she could do was wait and hope her captors gave up or someone came to free her.

She wouldn't go to the back of the room, climb those steps. She _wouldn't_ be empress.

"And-" came Eleazar's voice on the other side of the door "-just to nudge you along."

There was a dry crack, a sound she heard, felt and smelled at all once. In the corner of her eye, she saw one of the skeletons slowly lift itself, the thin trails of its shroud falling away.

She sprang away, just as another skeleton stirred.

"You'd better hurry," Eleazar called out. "Or Emperor Alkimus might become impatient."

Half-crying, half-swearing, Emilia wheeled, dashing past the graves, the reliquaries, the still-silent coffins, throwing herself through the doorway at the far end of the room, stumbling up the stairs. It wasn't until she entered the next highest room that the tomb below fell silent.

This second room in the Obsidian Castle was almost as broad as the tomb and perhaps three times as tall, its vast ceiling supported by abstractly carved arcs. The floor and walls were black basalt, crossed and recrossed with long scores. Emilia shivered, unable to shed the idea that they were claw marks.

She knew there'd be another level above this room, perhaps more than one, all the way to the top. According to tradition, the crown always waited for the next sovereign in the highest room. She'd asked, of course, who made the crowns, and no one had given her any clear answer. She backed against the wall, searching the darkness.

How was this room lit? There was no window, but a red haze engulfed the room, like a hearth behind firelight. But there was no fire.

She was breathing with her mouth open, the air was so thick. She wasn't getting enough of it. Lights glittered at the edges of her vision.

Something spun in the darkness, a liquid vortex. Through force of habit, Emilia lifted her chin haughtily, but it was all she could do.

A black, hooded shape appeared, then approached her, chains rustling across the floor. Not sure she wasn't hallucinating, Emilia saw that it wore a chained mask.

"Wrong time, wrong room and altogether the wrong person," a man's voice said in a soft sing-song. "Still, none of you have quite outlived your usefulness, so..." A large, ivory-plated book appeared before him, spreading its covers. The pages fanned quickly, then the man touched his palm to one.

Not able to control it, Emilia closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Then she fell forward, cool air rushing past her, her face hitting grass. She rolled onto her back, opening her eyes to dark sky, its eastern edge brushed with light.

"Still, I'll go forward, and then you can cover me from behind if you have to - Who's there?"

Emilia rolled to a sitting position. The first thing she saw was a rose bush, most of its blooms limp. And a statue of her great-great-aunt Zosima Bronquiae IX, battle-axe raised. She was...in one of the parks in Flarewerk city? But it was the city as she'd never seen it, streets cluttered with wagons and picket lines. No civilians, the nearest market in shambles, a pile of corpses not far from her, too fresh even to smell. Two shapes ran towards her, braids flying - Aegina and Luciana. That too was startling. They were rarely seen in public, and almost never seen together.

"It's the princess!" Luciana (Emilia mentally labeled her that) halted first. "But - but His Highness killed you!"

Emilia climbed to her feet, legs wobbly. She had no idea how she'd gotten there, who that man was. Her only choice was to focus on what lay in front of her.

"Be careful of a trap." Aegina drew a long straight-edged sword. "I don't trust this." After a moment, Luciana drew her own blade.

"I don't know what's going on," Emilia said slowly, "but if Gulcasa killed me, then I am going to kill _him_!" And she lowered her head and charged, breaking past both of the twins. She could hear them catching up, but she was lighter than either of them, could move faster. More importantly, she'd had it with being taken prisoner.

Her sprint of freedom was short lived as she dashed around the corner of a building and ran right into Leon, almost impaling herself on his spiked armor. He grabbed her by the upper arm. "What's this, someone eager to be killed?" And took a good look at her face. "The hell?"

Emilia could hear the twins slide to a halt behind her. "Take me to my brother, Leon."

"How are-"

She glared. "_Now_, Leon."

Leon's mouth twitched into its customary unpleasant smile, though his gauntlet tightened painfully on her arm. "Hmph. Well, if this is a trick, I'm sure he'll enjoy destroying you. He's already killed the real princess."

"Oh yeah?" Emilia jerked her arm out of his grasp but followed him. "And what'd she do to deserve that?"

"Appeared on the castle walls, bound and gagged to..." Leon trailed off, then shook his head. "Classic." He grinned. "I wonder if he knew she was a fake, or if he was just guessing."

Emilia almost hit him. "Gulcasa wouldn't guess with my life."

"So you hadn't gone and crowned yourself? Pity. That made things so much more interesting." The apparition - whatever he was - must have dropped her within the heart of Gulcasa's camp, because she could see his crimson commander's tent, the Bronquian flag flying from it. "Stand aside," Leon told the guards, then led her in.

Baldus, Eudy and Zilva stood conferring with the prince, but he dismissed them when he saw the arrivals. To Emilia's surprise, he didn't look confused to see her, coming forward to embrace her, bowing his head over hers. "Leave us, Leon. Are you well?"

"Maybe." Emilia stepped back from him, collecting her thoughts. "What's going on? I heard something about an impostor."

"Sit down. You look pale." Gulcasa offered her his own chair. As Emilia moved towards it, she finally noticed the dark figure standing in the tent's corner. The moment she focused on him, he vanished.

Gulcasa had followed her gaze. "Never mind Nessiah."

"Who was - He's the one who found me in the Obsid-"

"He told me."

"But who _is_ he?"

"An ally. He finally took some time out of planning our attacks to oblige me by finding you. You may thank him later, if you want." He poured her some strong wine.

Emilia sipped. "So you were expecting me. That explains it."

"Tell me everything that's happened."

Emilia took a deeper drink. "Only if you do." After another drink. "You..._were_ sure that the impostor wasn't me?"

"Not at first. But then they held a dagger to her neck, and she didn't fight back. That gave it away."

Emilia noted the pride in his voice, and though part of her felt sorry for that unknown girl - if she, Emilia, had capitulated, the impostor might still be alive - too much of her was angry at Langford.

* * *

"Now then," Gulcasa said, once they'd related the events of the past three days (and been mutually annoyed at what happened to the other), "your presence will be a great support to the aerial forces."

"That's right," Emilia said quickly. "How many units are with you?"

"Most of them. However, Lady Espria returned to Castle Bronquia yesterday, and quite a number of the riders have rallied around her." He paced a moment. "I will place you in command of my riders."

"What?" Emilia squawked, sounding much like Twit.

Gulcasa didn't reprimand her for questioning her commanding officer, but he gave her a bit of a look. "Being kidnapped won you quite a few partisans among the riders, and now that you're free, they will have even more faith in you."

"But I didn't do anything."

"You resisted. Furthermore, I think you are best suited to the task. Castle Bronquia is your home, and you know it best of all the griffon captains. Finally, if Langford has managed to convince any of his men that they're fighting on your behalf, this will relieve them of that delusion." He smiled, raising his eyebrows. "It isn't the easiest debut, but your subcaptains are dependable; they'll trust you."

"Like Leris did?"

"General Emilia," he said firmly, "do I have your support?"

Emilia had to trust him, as he seemed to trust her. She stood, then genuflected.

"Good. Meet with your women. I'll send a messenger when I want you."

Emilia walked into the cool, still-brightening morning with the burden of a general. When she found the griffon line, she was greeted by her personal unit, down four women. After a moment, she broke into their questions. "I need to see the captains of every unit. I...have news."

* * *

Gulcasa's army, for all the brutal fighting it had sustained over the past seventy two hours, had been steadily gaining. It was not merely that townspeople were joining and many of Langford's men were defecting. News of the siege had flown across the countryside, stirring young fighters to join. Likewise, Gulcasa had summoned the military units stationed outside of the capital. He held the Arc of Triumph, the gate to Flarewerk, so all supplies stopped at his camp, going no further. And finally Langford and his three Falcons had lost their claim to legitimacy, Emilia Bronquiae.

Emilia wondered if this battle would make the history books, and be described with such a tidy paragraph. Or if it would mentioned how a third of Flarewerk had been evacuated, the buildings taken over by the military, filled with soldiers ready to defend them like miniature fortresses. Behind these, in the broader avenues, waited Leon and Baldus' units, acting both as reserves and...deterrents to any of Gulcasa's men who might be tempted to retreat. Gulcasa sent Emilia's units patrolling during the day, but the defenders made no move.

Maybe this battle would make it into the ballads. She hoped they wouldn't be those soppy ones.

_Mind on business,_ she reprimanded herself as she and Twit made another sweep of the city, _General Emilia._ She concentrated on her flying and surveyed the ground, glad none of her women had openly challenged her authority.

They kept the patrolling constant throughout the day and into the evening, working in shifts. Emilia didn't see Gulcasa at all, having to rely on the instructions he'd given her at noon. At least they were flexible; they had to be; he couldn't easily command her when he was on the ground and she was hundreds of feet in the air. She knew her brother was gathering his defenses, readying for a night attack.

Emilia finished her third patrol an hour after nightfall. This had been one of the more eventful ones, with several of her riders picking off wall sentries just to shake things up. She landed in one of the city avenues, beyond Leon's cavalry line, letting Twit rest and herself eat. She wondered if Langford's men would break this far back. Gulcasa was at the base of the slope that led to Castle Bronquia, the front line, an easy target. He would be.

Between patrols, she'd taken intermittent naps (when not conferring with the many captains suddenly accountable to her), and she lightly dozed now, still in the saddle. One of her riders waited nearby, ready to run messages.

She awoke several times over the next few hours. The final time, there was no rider or message she needed to attend to. She simply opened her eyes, muscles already tense, and untied her reins. If asked, she couldn't have explained how she suddenly knew she had to be alert.

"General Emilia!" One her riders landed. "Lady Espria's aerial forces have-"

A heavy rock fell from the sky, punching a hole through the roof of an inn packed with soldiers.

Emilia talked over her alarm. "Proceed as planned. The patrols will circle and try to pick at her flanks." Emilia wanted to bring the enemy griffons down immediately, but committing her full force now was too much of a risk. While torches provided marginal light in the city streets, they didn't reach the sky, so the griffons would be fighting blind. Emilia held her ground, proud that Gulcasa's army maintained a semblance of order during the barrage. Arrows arced high into the air, fireballs blazed; griffons and riders tumbled from the sky, killed by Zilva's archers and Eudy's magicians.

The raid was short-lived, the survivors retreating. Emilia braced herself. That meant something else was coming. Another rider landed with news that ranks of Eleazar's zombies were marching from her home's front door.

_They probably want to tire us out, leaving the main force for the morning._ Emilia's patrols already knew what to do, launching their own raid against the zombie line. Emilia kicked off into the air, but once she rose above the city, she couldn't get a clear view of what was happening. The raid concluded once the zombies entered firing range of Zilva's archers, and Emilia received her report: they'd managed to pick off some of the zombies, but several riders had been grounded by archers on the castle walls. Emilia chewed her lip, directing riders patrol along Flarewreck's castle walls, looking for sneak attacks.

She made sweeps of the battle, but she had to stay relatively in place so that messengers could find her. The zombies were skirmishing, feinting towards the flanks of the city, trying to draw Baldus and Leon away from Gulcasa. She directed two units to mess with them, annoyed that she personally had to hold off. For now.

* * *

There was yet another lull as the grounded forces pulled back to recuperate from their skirmishes. It was still too dark for the griffons to engage in the sky. Emilia flew low over the city, assessing the damage. It was bad, but not nearly as bad as it might've been. Gulcasa's unit had been thinned, but the prince seemed hardly injured. She had her unit salute him with barrel rolls as they passed overhead.

Gulcasa met with his commanders on the front lines, warily watching Castle Bronquia. Marenka had been killed during the first day of battle, but the remaining commanders were eager for action, Leon simply to wreak havoc, the others to end this.

Baldus frowned when he heard the prince's strategy. "Your Highness, I advise you against separating your knights from the main force. That is exactly what the enemy wants."

"They've been trying to pull Leon and Baldus away from you," Emilia put in. "Won't that leave you unprotected?"

Gulcasa sounded no less confident than usual, but there was a marked grimness in his face. "Baldus, Leon, do not stray from your post, but do not hesitate to engage the enemy if he comes in range. I will provide my own defense."

Leon laughed, and no one asked what exactly he thought was funny.

"Emilia, your units will be flying at first light. You will stay well away from Radant's archers, drawing Espria's forces into the open sky. She is your first priority; do not begin defending the ground troops until she is dead."

"What about the rest of her force?"

Gulcasa thought a moment. "Kill at need. Though I think many of her riders may be brought around if given a chance at life. Begin circling." And he turned to give more detailed instructions to the knights.

The griffons launched, a flapping, shifting, swooping silhouette against the pale eastern haze. Emilia leveled off, taking the spearhead of her unit's wedge formation, then shifting it to a sickle, then a line, keeping her riders alert. She could see movement on one of the castle's ramparts, a unit of riders bracing; then, wings extended, they launched, closing the distance. Using her right arm, Emilia made the command for a wedge formation, then drew her mace, charging forward.

The griffons met halfway between the armies. Emilia felt Twit drop her haunches, rearing midair to attack another griffon, dragging her talons down its chest, her hind claws puncturing its stomach. Once Twit had a good hold, Emilia reined her hard to the left, twisting both griffons to the side, and, with a kick to the ribs, had Twit release. The enemy somersaulted thirty feet, regaining herself in time to meet Emilia's dive. She aimed for the rider, Twit's claws extended.

The griffon survived, flapping erratically, waiting for commands from her dead rider. Emilia left them, flying back to the main battle, searching for an enemy. Though they all wore the uniform of the imperial aerial forces, neither side wanted to accidentally kill their own women. Espria had outfitted her riders with blue armbands. Three days ago, Emilia's riders had decided they wanted warpaint and lots of it.

Emilia rammed another rider from below, clubbing the griffon in the side. She surged past that rider - then was slammed aside, spinning, dropping through the air. She righted herself and instantly swerved, dodging her enemy's dive.

"You'll live up to your name, Scarlet Princess," Espria taunted, "covered in your own blood."

Emilia tossed her hair out of her eyes. "Don't be gross."

And then yet another rider hit her from above.

The mace clipped her side; even that was explosively painful. Emilia went into a controlled roll, dodging as Espria and her rider closed in at the same moment.

"Hold off!" Espria called to her rider. "One against one, I won't be accused of cowardice. I'll even let little Emilia collect herself after that nasty hit."

By the time she'd finished boasting, Emilia had banked, flying from the east, the rising sun at her back. Espria squinted - grimaced - but braced herself, presenting her griffon's claws and talons.

Emilia took a risk. Flattening herself on Twit's neck, she rammed again, hitting the griffon in her unprotected stomach, her talons coming down to rip across Emilia's back. For a moment, she couldn't see anything, her face pressed into the feathers at Twit's nape, Espria's griffon bowed over her. Then Twit shook the griffon and she tumbled to the side. The griffon was still alive, but stunned, winded and momentarily incapable of flight. Espria was unharmed, but she fell with her griffon, crashing to the stone road below.

Emilia glanced up. The riders were tiring, the skirmishes pulling apart, Espria's riders looking for the command to withdraw. Emilia legged Twit into a swift rise, catching a rider from behind and below.

Espria's riders soon realized they were leaderless, and several of the captains began signaling for a retreat. Emilia gave the command for pursuit, chasing them until they entered bow-range from Radant's archers. Then she called her own withdrawal, the riders angling their flight back to the city. Reserve riders launched from Flarewreck to cover their backs and recommence patrolling.

Emilia tried to gauge the battle as she flew overhead. Baldus and Leon were engaged on both flanks, fighting soldiers and zombies alike. Where was Gulcasa?

She sought the front lines. Valkyries and Dragon Knights struggled with Miles' infantry. There was Gulcasa at the center of his own unit. It had been isolated, Miles and another swordsman unit closing from two sides.

Emilia saw a flash of movement, Gulcasa raising his scythe. For a moment, she thought he was going to try to retreat. Then his unit erupted in fire.

She reflexively backwinged, hovering, mind spinning. Could she dive down and try to rescue him - No, he would already be incinerated by the time she got there. Baring her teeth, she scanned the enemy, searching for the mage who had cast the fireball. If she couldn't save him, she'd avenge him, so -

There were no nearby mage units.

A figure stood at the center of the conflagration. Though his unit had been burned so quickly not even their bones remained, Gulcasa stood unharmed.

In a moment, his dragon had leapt at Miles, crushing him, Gulcasa's scythe reaping across the swordsmen who turned to flee. Gulcasa's hair flew from beneath his helmet; his armor was unsinged.

Emilia hovered and watched.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

At least they hadn't trashed her rooms. Emilia went through her beaureau, her closet, her chests, but nothing had been looted. Even Bunny still lay across her pillow, where she had put him four mornings ago.

She checked her rooms a second time, more for something to do than worry. How long would it take? As soon as he'd liberated Castle Bronquia and taken Langford, Eleazar, Radant and their higher officers prisoner, Gulcasa had left for the Obsidian Castle to take his crown. Emilia hadn't had one second to speak to him. She, Leon and Baldus were in command in the prince's absence. People were generally unwilling to approach Leon, and while some people had come to her, most people seemed to feel Baldus held the most authority.

Finally, she knew where she had to go, much as she hated to.

Her leg had been hurt at some point during the battle, and her side and back had needed to be bandaged tightly, so her progress through the castle was slow. She limped past people assessing the damages, working up temporary repairs, clearing away the dead. The hallway leading to the Obsidian Castle was quiet, stifling.

Feeling faint, Emilia slid down one of the cool stone walls, stretching her injured leg out. After a moment, her long eyelashes fluttered, then dropped.

For the only time in her life, she slept without dreaming.

* * *

The Emperor of Bronquia knelt and shook her awake. Emilia blinked to see her brother, dirty from battle, wearing a silver circlet with a thin onyx on his brow. She'd never seen it before. She'd never seen anyone set an entire unit of Dragoons on fire, then ride unharmed through them. These thoughts passed over her with little impression. There had been too many important things to think about.

"Did everything go all right?" she whispered, her throat raw again. She tried not to think of what had happened to her in the black spire, the strange furnace of the second chamber.

Gulcasa, expression closed, took her wrist and pulled her to her feet. "Prepare yourself." His voice was weary. "I will be passing judgment in the throne room. I want all of Castle Bronquia to see."

Questions slipped through Emilia's mind, but she mentally pushed them aside, opting for a simpler line of thought. She groaned. "You mean...a state occasion? Now?"

"We have no time to rest. Don't be late."

Emilia told a runner to find Valena, if she were still alive (Emilia hoped so), then trudged up to her room and dragged her wardrobe open, meeting the row of fine gowns reserved for state occasions. She went into her bathroom and began drawing her own bath.

"Princess Emilia? Thank the gods. I'd heard you were all right, but I'm - I'm glad I can see it with my own eyes." Valena looked terrible, a large bruise across her right cheek. "I got it while escaping," she explained. "A lot of us servants went down to the cellars and closed them off from Langford and his people. I - I'm sorry. If I hadn't gone, I could've stayed with you in that tower. It must have been horri-"

"It's over now. I'm just glad you're okay." It wasn't fitting for a princess to hug her maid, so she gave Valena the brightest smile she could. "Now-" and here she sighed "-I have to get ready for court."

The dress she chose hid the bandage bulging at her waist, but now that she was thirteen, she had to contend with floor length skirts. She hoped they'd hide her limp, at least a little. She had a scrape across her cheek that had finally dried. Valena tried to cover it with powder, then Emilia told her to stop. She might as well wear her wound with pride. Valena quickly twisted her pigtails up and behind, then placed Emilia's tiara on her head.

Emilia checked herself over in the mirror. She loved to dress up, but the day after a battle, she couldn't bring herself to care. This would have to be good enough.

The throne room had remained untouched by battle, its banners angled on either side of the obsidian throne. The nobles who had been unable to flee the seige clustered at the edges of the room, looking nervous. Emilia entered without any ceremony and stood next to the throne, crossing her arms. Leon and Baldus soon entered, but neither of them spoke to her; not being members of the imperial family, they couldn't ascend the dais without permission. Aegina - Emilia wasn't sure which she was and mentally labeled her "Aegina" - entered, wearing the armor of a minor Valkyrie captain. After a moment, Emilia realized Luciana was also in the room, standing well away from her twin in the guise of an anonymous guard. Looking up, she thought she saw the shadow of one of Zilva's women on one of the room's balconies. Eudy sailed in, wearing the wide black skirts of a widow. Her husband had been one of Eleazar's necromancers, and she'd seemed to take great satisfaction in killing him.

Finally Gulcasa entered, wearing the red cloak of the Empire-at-war, his hair loose, his scythe in his hand. Without looking to the left or right, he walked down the central carpet, ascended the dais and stood before the throne. Everyone expected a triumphant speech, but all he said was, "Bring out the prisoners."

Emilia didn't recognize many of the officers, but she had eyes only for the three figures in front - Radant, Eleazar and Langford. Especially Langford. Radant kept his handsome chin lifted, gaze sweeping the assembly like the hero in some melodrama. Eleazar also kept his head up, but his lips were thin with tension, fright and disgust together. The scholar's head was bowed, meeting no one's gaze.

"You have brought fear and disgrace to the people of Bronquia. You have blasphemed against the Imperial name of Bronquiae, and you have shamed our country before the world. Radant."

Radant met the emperor's eyes, then tossed his curling hair back. The tip of his chin went pink with the effort it took to keep it from shaking.

Gulcasa tipped his head to the side, his expression pleasant. "I am told that no fewer than thirty eight poems have been written in homage to your face. I appreciate that that is no small feat. Surely it is your offering of greatness to Bronquia. As I have no desire to diminish Bronquia's glory, I will have your head mounted over the castle's main gates. Doubtless, the poets will write you a few more tributes." And stepping forward, he hooked his scythe around Radant's neck - and drew his arm around. Emilia glanced away. She heard the thud of the skull hitting the floor, muffled by the carpet and the long hair. The shifting of cloth as the body slumped forward was unremarkable in comparison. After a moment, she looked back over. Radant's body lay stretched in a spreading stain of blood. The head had rolled down the central carpet, stopping before it reached the crowd. She looked down again, watching only out of the edge of her eye.

"Eleazar."

After hesitating, the necromancer lifted his head, eyes blank.

"I wish to thank you for your many years of service to my empire. Your studies have been thorough and unremitting, providing new information, new theories, and new means of revivification and torture. Bronquia has many young necromancers eager to test their abilities. Your body shall be entrusted to them." With a swift movement, almost like a flick, the scythe flashed and Eleazar's head spun forward off his body. It landed at Gulcasa's feet. The emperor paused only to kick it aside before taking a step down the line.

"Langford."

Emilia looked up again. The scholar still bowed. His shoulder blades were tensed, his hands clasped behind his back, as though he were trying to hold something in, or make himself as small as possible.

Gulcasa rolled the scythe's haft in his hand. "I would hand you over to Princess Emilia but that I feel your long association with her has no need of an epilogue. Your body will be quartered, its pieces fed to Her Highness griffon. May she grow fat by your folly." He swung down with the edge of his scythe to split Langford's skull. Emilia made herself watch. She did not feel anything, any sort of triumph. She thought she might later.

The remaining officers were led away to be executed that night in a group. When they were gone, Gulcasa turned to the crowd. "Now. Before the hour is over, more blood must be spilled. Nessiah." A dark shape in the corner of the room stepped out of the shadows. Heads turned as the shrouded man approached the dais, his chains whispering across the floor. "Baldus. Leon." The three knelt before the dais. "Emilia."

Hiding her surprise, Emilia stepped off the dais and knelt beside Baldus. After a moment, she realized what was happening.

"Through the long years of my father's reign," Gulcasa continued, "he was served by a succession of soldiers revered for their bravery, brilliance and loyalty, marked in the seal of his blood." Using one of the many sharp prongs on his scythe, Gulcasa cut his left palm open. "In the last hours of Emperor Alkimus' reign, as he lay still warm in his tomb, that succession was perverted, tainting both itself and our sacred country. I proclaim this day that Bronquia shall be remade, and New Bronquia shall rise upon the shoulders of a new order." As he spoke, he touched his bleeding palm to each forehead: Nessiah, Leon, Baldus, and finally Emilia. "The Falcons have left us. Our nation is reborn in the blood of the Dragon."

Aegina was the first to cheer, followed quickly by the rest of the room. Emilia thought she could hear voices quavering; a drop of her brother's blood slid down her face.

Gulcasa still spoke formally, though his voice was quieter, meant only for their ears. "Rise, Dragon Generals. Help me lead our country into glory."

Emilia studied the others as she stood: Baldus was solemn, Leon smiling. Nessiah seemed to study Gulcasa. As one, they turned to face the court.

Emilia kept her chin high.


	14. Chapter 14

14.

Emilia tried to hide her disappointment. "I'm so happy for you, Valena."

Valena smiled. "Thank you, milady. I - I wish I could continue to serve as your handmaid, but Mother says that once I'm married, I'll have other things to see to, so..." Emilia could tell that _perhaps_ she'd miss living in the castle, maybe even her friendship with the princess, but she was eager to marry the Dragon Knight who had proposed to her.

"It's probably for the best," Emilia said quickly. She let her words hang vaguely, but she could guess, from some hints Gulcasa had let drop, that things would swiftly be changing in her life.

"Besides," Valena said, "you may be married yourself soon enough."

Emilia rolled her eyes. "Brother says I can marry if I want. I don't particularly." She thought of some of the unmarried nobility she knew and grimaced.

"Still, you're the Emperor's sister and a Dragon General in your own right. You're the most powerful woman in Bronquia."

Emilia didn't speak for a moment, letting Valena brush her hair, then said flatly, "I can't even make babies yet."

"That'll come soon enough." She took a pair of scissors, shearing off one of Emilia's split ends, then finishing hoisting up her pigtails. "It's nice to have a bit of a rest, isn't it?"

Emilia shrugged. "I'll be out again soon enough." During the months since Gulcasa's coronation, he'd been sending her into the countryside, rallying for support. Most people had already heard tales of his prodigious strength, and when they heard the story of Langford's coup, they grew even more impressed. Gulcasa was also amplifying his popularity by beginning several projects, such as providing for the families of soldiers that had been killed in the uprising, running out the bandits who had long controlled the west, and rebuilding the major roads throughout Bronquia. The first road that he'd repaired was the road to Fort Ishnad.

Emilia, tired as she was, was almost reluctant to return to Flarewerk. For the first time in her life, she'd gone among the common people of Bronquia, slept in their small houses (but always the grandest they could offer) and seen how they lived. She'd been amazed at their constant labor just to survive, working most of the day, falling asleep as soon as it was too dark to see by. And the reverence they had for the imperial family they'd never before met. She'd thought the heart of Bronquia lay in Flarewerk, but she quickly realized these people had dreams for Bronquia too - more land, more animals, more time to devote to things other than work. When she'd told one village that they might have a school in the next few years, the children had actually been happy; their only alternative was labor. Already more people were traveling from the country, seeking opportunity in Flarewerk and Ishnad.

"There," said Valena, tying on Emilia's headband, carefully fanning out the lace. "Quite pretty if I do say so myself."

Emilia rose, legs stiff from all the riding she'd been doing. "Thanks." She headed for her door, glancing back at herself in the mirror. "I suppose the eyes of the imperial army has to look nice."

_Whap_ into the door.

After Valena had combed her bangs to hide the bruise on her forehead, Emilia made her way down the corridors, intending to go to the mews and check how Twit's injured leg was healing. But halfway there, she was summoned to see the emperor, who now really was too busy to seek her out himself.

At least he didn't make her come to his study, with the Dragon Banner - the emblem of New Bronquia - hanging behind him. She went to his rooms, finding him pacing, a map in his hands. A tray of half-eaten food rested on a small table, and Emilia took a bite out of his lamb pie. "What's up?"

"Hands off the pie," he said without looking up, his eyes following a winding path across the paper, lost in thought for a moment. "I suppose, no matter how much I threatened or bribed the mages, they wouldn't be able to build a road through Drominos Marsh in less time than half a year."

Emilia selected one of his grapes (What did he do to deserve all the best food?). "You're in a hurry to get somewhere?"

He glanced at her sidelong, across the edge of the map. "What do you say to summering in Fantasinia?"

Emilia rolled another grape between her fingers. "I'm guessing we haven't received a formal invitation from King Ordene..."

Gulcasa put the map aside and picked up the remainder of his pie. "Why the wariness? Don't you think I should begin my reign with a glorious war?"

Emilia frowned. "But I've always heard Fantasinia's unconquerable. They have that sword thing. And don't the stories say the Artwaltzes are descended from the gods?"

"We both carry Artwaltz blood in our veins," Gulcasa rejoined, finishing his pie. "And I carry the blood of something far greater."

A shiver twitched across Emilia's back. She'd been preparing for the moment he brought that up again. "Just...just what is happening, Gulcasa?" He didn't answer, forcing her to clarify. "This power of yours. I saw you go up in flames, that last night of the revolution. And...what does having Brongaa's blood mean?"

Gulcasa looked thoughtfully across the room, at the unlit fireplace. "You know the Bronquian code," he said eventually. "That the weak do not deserve power. They misuse it, and in that, they may even defeat the strong. The only way to save the whole is to take power from those who cannot use it. Brongaa..." He again hesitated, as if collecting his thoughts. "It's a way of purifying, do you see?"

"I suppose so."

"Purgatorial, even."

Emilia's eyes widened. Gulcasa watched her carefully. "You want to - purify - the world?"

"I want to bring the world under control," he answered - perhaps evaded. "It's floundering, don't you see? King Ordene lording it over his people, not using his country to half its potential. The bickering of the southern theocrats. The wreckage of Lost Aries. And New Bronquia, growing stronger."

"But you," Emilia said, "were talking about Purgatory."

A smile flickered across his face. "I doubt it will be pleasant for those who cannot rise to it."

Emilia crossed her arms and paced. "Wouldn't it be better to-" she looked almost guilty for a moment "-leave them alone? I mean," she said hastily, "if they're going to crumble anyway, why not just wait to pick up the pieces?"

"Because Bronquia may crumble just as quickly if I do not act. Emilia, the nation is gaining power. That power cannot simply stop at Fort Ishnad; Bronquia won't be big enough to contain it. And shouldn't we lend that power to the rest of the world?"

Emilia stared out the window. For the first time, she noticed it faced Mt. Brongaadian. "I..." Sometimes, his words sounded so callous, other times, so noble. "I..." Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. "Brother, I've always trusted you."

"I know." He paused, his face softening. "Your faith hasn't gone unnoticed, especially in the last few weeks."

"I know you can be a great emperor. And I'll help you. I just-" She made herself talk steadily again. "I'll try to understand what it is you want."

"Greatness for Bronquia. Isn't that what we promised Father?"

Emilia couldn't remember all the things they'd promised him. Except - _Protect each other._

Whatever Gulcasa's plan was, he'd carry it through with or without her help. And if it involved an ancient dragon so powerful he was sealed away by the gods, Gulcasa would be in danger. If she could help him get out of it alive, and bring glory to her people...

"So," she said after a moment, "summer in Fantasinia."

* * *

That night, Emilia remembered that she'd wanted to ask him about Nessiah. She hadn't seen the masked man since Gulcasa's coronation, and though she'd heard many rumors - he was a Fantasinian necromancer, he was a long-forgotten noble from Lost Aries, he was a ghost - no one seemed to know anything about him. A memory hovered in the corners of her mind - clutching Gulcasa's arm, searching for someone in the Hall of Consorts. She shivered under the blankets, holding Bunny close. Ever since Alkimus' death, she'd had trouble falling asleep without the bear.

Gulcasa was smart. He wouldn't keep anyone near him who could harm him.

* * *

Two evenings later, the court artist finished Gulcasa's coronation portrait, to be hung in the Hall of Monarchs. He wore his battle gear, hair loose, a skull representing Langford's conspirators at his feet.

His left hand was lifted to heart level, palm up. It held a flame.


	15. Chapter 15

15.

She didn't tell Gulcasa she'd brought Bunny along.

Gulcasa wanted his army to move as swiftly as possible; each soldier carried his own gear. Because she was a griffon rider, Emilia's pack had to be doubly light. She had only a thin sleeping roll, a bowl that served also as a plate or cup, a change of clothes, spare reins, some preserved meat, and Bunny. He was relatively weightless, though her pack did bulge suspiciously.

She didn't explain it to anyone, though if Alkimus were still alive, were still young and vigorous and jovial, he might've understood.

Bunny's presence at her back was comforting, even as Gulcasa's army battled below her, forcing their way into the fortress of Karona, hungry for the supplies that lay beyond. Karona, the great walled city that had thwarted her ancestors so often before, was Fantasinia's first defense against Bronquia.

For all that, the garrison had not been expecting an attack. Fantasinia and Bronquia had been, if not amicable, peaceful towards each other in recent years, and there were even some nascent rumors of a match between Gulcasa and Princess Yggdra, who was still unmarried at seventeen. Emilia could imagine their consternation when their lookouts had first seen the dust from the approaching army.

Fantasinia did not have a large aerial force, griffons preferring Bronquia's colder, more mountainous terrain, and none of the royal riders were stationed at Karona. Emilia and her units patrolled the edges of the battle, alerting the ground commanders to encroaching flank and rear attacks, unable to stir up the soldiers on the ramparts for fear of their archers.

She never had to search for Gulcasa. He'd already destroyed six of his own knights in a blast of fire - Brongaa's fire, he told her, burning in his blood - and killed many more of the enemy. Several royal units were in a panic, rushing to barricade the city.

Movement towards Karona's gate caught her eye, a unit of swordsmen fending off a phalanx of imperial Valkyries. In a moment, the women were falling back, leaving their many dead.

It wasn't long before both sides withdrew to reconnoiter, and Emilia swept back to earth; she knew Gulcasa would want to meet with all of them.

"We're doing well until we hit the fortress itself." He looked sharply at Emilia. "What's happening there?"

But it was it was one of the twin Valkyries who spoke first. "They've saved their best defenders for the rear. And there's one swordsman, he - he was so fast, our unit barely escaped."

Gulcasa rubbed a scrape along his jaw. "Zilva, do you know anything?"

"The rear defenses are held by Captains Teodric, Russell and Naria," the assassin said in her flat tones. "Captain Aegina refers to Captain Russell." Prompted by Gulcasa's silence, she added, "He is renowned throughout Karona as being undefeatable."

Gulcasa inclined his head. "An exalted claim. I wish to test it." He quickly began firing off commands, shifting the plan so his unit would have a clear shot at Russell's. "I'll need cover from the archers, Emilia," he added. Emilia nodded, but it was hard not to protest; her riders would be in the direct line of fire. But if he believed they could do it, then they would.

The archers were undoubtedly surprised when the Scarlet Princess and two of her units shot towards their walls. Emilia leaned low over Twit, wincing as arrows flew past her, one hitting the rider just to her right. Another clipped Twit's wing, and she faltered a moment, but continued her charge. Another imperial griffon near her somersaulted midair, then fell. She didn't know how many riders had gotten through. Below, she knew Gulcasa had begun his own charge towards Russell's swordsmen.

Emilia gripped her mace, but she was relying on Twit's beak and claws as they dove. Then - finally - they were too close for the archers to shoot them. Some drew knives, but it was too late.

Emilia's riders landed amongst the archers, on top of them, slashing and crushing. A unit of Valkyries ran along the ramparts towards them, and Emilia quickly commanded a withdrawal, Twit's feathers slick with blood as they returned to the sky.

* * *

Karona's garrison broke during the second day of the siege, some soldiers surrendering, others hiding, others taking their own lives in shame. Gulcasa sent Baldus and Leon to secure the city, and after promoting both Luciana and Aegina, sent Aegina to hold Karona's gate.

"Why didn't Luciana go with her. And why was Luciana in disguise?" Emilia asked once they'd left. "One or the other usually is, I've noticed."

"They're both strong soldiers, and they'll become stronger in time," Gulcasa answered. "I want tales of my warriors' might spread far and wide, and if people fear Aegina because she can be in two places at once, it will only help me."

"Kind of rough on Luciana," Emilia said, raising her eyebrow.

Gulcasa almost rolled his eyes. "They didn't seem to mind."

They wouldn't say so if they did, Emilia thought. Maybe Gulcasa didn't notice, but she'd seen the way both twins looked at him.

"Your Imperial Highness." Unheard by them Zilva had climbed the winding stairs to the garrison commander's quarters, which Gulcasa had appropriated. She knelt in the doorway. "We have brought Captain Russell."

"Bring him in."

As Zilva retreated down the staircase, Emilia looked at her brother. "Are you going to question him?" Russell's reputation had not survived his battle with Gulcasa, and he had been taken prisoner the day before. Emilia had thought Gulcasa would most likely publicly execute him.

Two assassins escorted Russell in, his hands shackled behind his back. Zilva followed, genuflecting. The assassins forced Russell to his knees. There was a dry mess of blood beneath his left nostril, and the same eye was partially shut, but he seemed otherwise unhurt.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, Russell of Karona?"

His voice was strained but firm; perhaps he was in more pain than she could see. "Only that I am a loyal son of Fantasinia and happy to give my life for my homeland."

"I have no intention of seeing that joy," Gulcasa replied. "I am not accustomed to killing those who have survived dueling me."

Emilia looked quickly over, eyebrows raised. What about the Falcons he'd killed? Granted, none had faced him personally.

Russell spat at Gulcasa's feet. "Go back to your kennel! You don't need Fantasinia. And don't you think your own people will turn on you?"

Gulcasa didn't bother to respond; Emilia herself knew the answer. Gulcasa, after his dramatic, heroic takeover, felt sure in his people's loyalty, confident enough to take almost all of his army into Fantasinia. The token defenses in Flarewerk would have no problems.

"Sir Russell," Gulcasa said after a moment, "I promise that you will find no disadvantage in rethinking your loyalties. Fantasinia will be crushed."

Russell was breathing hard. "Then I will be crushed with it."

"You are popular with this garrison, I understand. It is prestige well-earned. None of my soldiers would be ashamed to follow you."

Russell's eyebrows arched in surprise. "What are you - You would make me a commander in your army?" He gave an ugly laugh. "You must be desperate."

"I have an eye for skill," Gulcasa replied, somewhat dryly. "And I reward it."

"Reward me with death!" Russell shot back. "That's all I want now."

Gulcasa nodded to the assassins. "Return him to his cell. Zilva, remain here."

When they were gone, Emilia whirled on her brother. "You want a _Fantasinian_ in our army?"

"I want an extremely powerful and popular commander in our army," Gulcasa countered. "Especially _because_ he is Fantasinian." He glanced at a map of Fantasinia on the wall. "Not only will he have a better understanding of the terrain than my generals, when the Fantasinian populace sees their favorite Captain Russell has defected, it will wound their morale. It may even win us partisans. Now, Zilva, you have scouted the city? Tell me what you've learned of this Russell."

Zilva remained kneeling, though another soldier might have felt casual enough to rise. "He is an orphan, Majesty, the adopted son of Leopold, the late garrison commander. He is affianced to the second daughter of the arms master."

Gulcasa's eyes lit at that. "Bring her to me."

When Zilva left, Gulcasa received another impatient look from his sister. "Just what are you doing?"

"Negotiating." He didn't seem particularly perturbed, going over to the commander's desk and pulling out one of the drawers to search it.

Emilia lingered in his room, debating whether she wanted to be party to this or not. Her curiosity won out.

Russell's fiancée didn't allow herself to be dragged into the study, and she voluntarily lowered herself to her knees. She was lovely, unhurt; all that marred the picture were the heavy ropes around her wrists and the fear in her eyes.

"This is she, Your Imperial Highness," Zilva said. "She was well-hidden and heavily guarded, but we found her."

Gulcasa spoke gently, the same tone he'd used years ago with Aegina and Luciana. "What is your name?"

Her eyes were wide and bright, but she spoke flatly, as if trying to hide any emotion. "Flone."

"Have they told you why I requested your presence?"

She swallowed and shook her head; Emilia had a hunch what she was afraid of.

"It concerns your betrothed, Captain Russell."

Flone jerked, as though she were about to stand. "Is he de-" She cut her words off, face white, voice shaking. "Oh gods, no!"

If this were a play, Emilia would've pretended to gag (the imperial family had produced few great romantics) but she found herself hoping Gulcasa would reassure Flone and give her her freedom.

"Captain Russell still lives," Gulcasa said equably, waiting for her features to relax with relief. "For now." She looked quickly up at him. "I am afraid though that if he doesn't agree to march beneath my banner, you will both die."

Flone tightened her jaw. "Kill us. We won't bargain."

"But if he does acquiesce, he will be alive at the end of this war, able to return to you."

Flone set her shoulders, mouth tight, not answering.

Gulcasa waited a moment. "Bring Captain Russell here."

As Zilva left, Flone hung her head, her hair hiding her face. _She knows what'll happen,_ Emilia realized. _And it's not good. _

Though bound, Russell came in verbally swinging. "What now, Emperor of Carnage? Do you wish to-" His voice died as he saw Flone, and in a moment, he was straining against the two assassins who held him. "Release her, you coward!"

Emilia crossed her arms tightly, wishing she hadn't stayed to watch.

"By your own refusal, you have dragged this innocent woman into this room," Gulcasa said. "Who is the coward here?"

"Flone - Don't you dare touch her-"

"Be quiet and listen, Captain Russell." Gulcasa fixed his eyes on the swordsman. "Your decision is clear: Submit to Bronquia, and you both live. Refuse, and you will share a grave."

Russell sought Flone's eyes. She finally lifted her face, untroubled.

Russell took a deep breath, then turned to Gulcasa. "I refuse. Joining Flone in death is no punishment."

Gulcasa raised his eyebrow. "Very well then, I alter my terms. Submit, and you both shall live. Refuse, and she alone will die."

Russell caught his breath. Flone swallowed, then spoke quickly. "It makes no difference, Russell! Please!"

"Flone, I-" Russell whispered.

"It doesn't matter! If you don't want live with my death, then I don't want to live knowing you're serving this - this - demon!"

Russell leaned forward and shook his head. "Flone, I - no."

"Russell!"

Russell raised his face to Gulcasa, his eyes blank. "I submit to your terms."

"Take them away," Gulcasa told the assassins. "I want their cells as far apart as possible. And keep both heavily guarded." He turned back to Russell. "I will reward you with her company, but only once you have proven your loyalty." And finally, to Zilva, "Bring me the soldier who captured her."

He seemed to expect the indignant outburst from Emilia this time. "Isn't this reckless? He's going to turn on you. It doesn't matter what you threaten, he'll snap!"

"Or he'll see reason. In either case, we have the Fantasinian fighting under our banner. That alone may-" Just then Zilva reentered, bringing an assassin not much older than Emilia. Both knelt.

"This is Elena," Zilva said, her authority allowing her to speak for her soldier. "She captured the woman."

"Under great difficulty, I hear. Rise, Elena." Gulcasa studied her features. Maybe he liked her, Emilia thought, but he also probably wanted to remember her, to be able to use her in future campaigns. Something about her silver hair and features was familiar.

"Leon has told me of a younger sister named Elena," Gulcasa said presently.

Elena bowed quickly in acknowledgment. She did bear a slight resemblance to the Black Knight. Not only the hair color, there was a similarity about the mouth and cheeks, even something in the eyes.

"Thank you for the service you have rendered me," Gulcasa said formally. "You are dismissed." Elena bowed again, and a few moments after she left, Gulcasa turned to Zilva. "I strongly suggest giving that soldier her own unit. If she shares half of her brother's talent, she should not be restrained."

"Yes, your majesty." Zilva hesitated, then offered a rare opinion of her own. "Elena is a superb fighter for her age, and I have already considered promoting her."

"I wouldn't hesitate. You're dismissed."

When they were alone again, Gulcasa turned to Emilia and raised his eyebrow.

"What?" Emilia asked.

"Haven't I done something this time to annoy you?"

Emilia mentally reviewed the conversation. "No. I think you missed your opportunity."

Gulcasa strode to the map. "You should go get some rest, Sister. Our stay in Karona will be busy, and we won't be lingering."

Emilia glanced at the map, following its careful lines to Paltina, the Fantasinian capital.


	16. Chapter 16

16.

Bringing Bunny had been a good idea, but maybe she should have brought a book or two.

Emilia sat on the back of a supply wagon and swung her legs, enjoying the best view of the sunset she could get in the army camp - unless she wanted to fly, but she was off-duty at the moment. She'd just left Gulcasa's war tent, where runners had relayed that Ordene had sent several wings of his army to hold the towns between Karona and Paltina. The Bronquian army had only lingered in Karona for a few days before riding out for the capital. And they had been stopped by the royal forces with barely two feet out the door.

They'd managed to drive the Royal Army back, but they had just dug in their defenses at the next town. There'd probably be another battle tomorrow, maybe in mere hours.

Emilia leaned her elbow on her knee and her chin in her hand. Honestly - if she was being very honest - she found herself liking battles. It used to be just the thrill of flying, of protecting Bronquia, she loved, but she found she was coming to appreciate the satisfaction of dominating the opposing force, seeing how careful strategy continually tipped the odds in their favor. Well, that and Gulcasa's sheer presence. Russell calling him "the Emperor of Carnage" hadn't been a fluke. Apparently much of Fantasinia had already styled him that, seeing his coronation as a bloody uprising instead of a rightful heir reclaiming his crown. No matter. Gulcasa had embraced the new title.

Nevertheless, dramatics weren't enough. Their strategy _was_ good. Emilia shivered, having a hunch whose strategy it was. She shifted position, wrapping her arms around her middle. Seeing Nessiah always made her feel cold.

She pulled her thoughts away from the enigmatic tactician, but that brought her back around to battles. She shifted, recrossing her legs. Maybe she wasn't enjoying battles. Maybe she was just battle-hardened. Like a general should be.

Movement caught her eye, Russell stalking through the camp, grimacing as he nodded to the Bronquian swordsmen who saluted him. She felt sorry for him - or rather, intellectually she knew she'd hate to be in his position, but at that moment she was fed up with him, his grimaces, his pained expression after yesterday's battle. As he walked by, she muttered, "We aren't all bad."

He passed on with hardly a look, perhaps too chivalrous to contest it.

"General Emilia?"

She glanced over to see Aegina standing in the half-light. "What?"

"Have you seen His Imperial Highness?" The metal fingers of her gauntlet rested on her swordhilt. "He isn't in his tent."

Emilia shrugged. "Maybe he's making his rounds."

"Yes, but-" Her gaze flicked across the wagons, the picket lines.

"What?" Emilia snapped.

Aegina glared. "My report is for His Highness, not you."

Emilia sniffed pointedly and tossed her pigtail over her shoulder.

Aegina took a deep breath, as if trying to leave it at that, but -"Don't _you_ worry? It isn't right." Emilia braced herself, trying to think of a simplified explanation for Gulcasa's power in battle, but Aegina went on, "Following a complete stranger into battle. Just who is that Nessiah? How can we trust him?"

Not liking that Aegina's worries paralleled her own, Emilia flew to an extreme. "You trust Gulcasa, don't you? Or should I tell him you doubt his judgment? I bet you'd like that!"

The metal fingers scraped together as Aegina's hand tightened.

Emilia readied another retort - then reined it in, clenching her teeth. "Never mind. Okay. I don't know where he is. And I don't have a clue about Nessiah. Happy?"

Aegina's lips thinned as she pressed them together. "No, of course not." She relaxed her grip, looking down, her voice almost too soft to be heard. "His Highness' safety is everything."

"Then he should stop setting himself on fire," Emilia muttered, surprising even herself.

Aegina was glaring again. "Now who's doubting him?"

"Shut up!"

"The emperor's power is proof of our divine protection."

Emilia hugged herself close. "I've heard enough!"

"The emperor needs our support." Aegina stepped away, and again her tone shifted, sounded almost sad. "I would hate to tell him he couldn't even trust his sister."

"You won't have to break your heart over it," Emilia grumbled. "I _do_ trust him."

Aegina gave her a withering look. "Never mind. Have you seen Aegina?"

"Uh..." Emilia busied herself with the cuff of her boot. "Um, nope."

Luciana sighed long-sufferingly and stalked off.

* * *

They took the town of Keddis in half a day, Aegina leading the first force through the gate; at the same time, Aegina was seen fighting furiously on the left flank, deflecting a sneak attack that the aerial patrols spotted. Gulcasa barely gave the local militia and town leaders time to protest before killing them. Emilia took this silently. These were trained soldiers, yes, but they had never been prepared to face the brunt of an attack by themselves. There were simply too few of them.

Then the commanders should have just surrendered. They still would've died, but their soldiers would live.

Messages flew to her throughout the afternoon: the Second Cavalry was riding west to face them, and the royal griffon riders had been sighted.

But that evening, sequestered in the alderman's house, eating at his long table, Gulcasa seemed at ease, inviting his elite commanders to dine with him. It wasn't that he drank recklessly or laughed the danger aside; he simply discussed it without haste or worry.

"What about your friend?" Leon asked, refilling his wineglass and gesturing to the corner of the room. "Hungry? Your...eyes getting tired?"

Nessiah, seated at a low chair with his book hovering before him, lifted his head; though the mask had no holes, presumably covering sightless eyes, he angled his face directly at Leon. After a moment, he made a slight gesture over the book's pages, as if crossing something out with his finger. "Perhaps I should rethink your placement in tomorrow's battle line."

Leon laughed harshly. "None of that. I don't fight with weaklings."

Smiling, Nessiah rose and left, the door independently swinging shut behind him. Emilia wasn't sure if the room felt colder or warmer.

"I wonder what King Ordene's thinking right now," Emilia said after a moment, just so the room wasn't quiet anymore.

"Shitting his pants-" Leon started.

"The Second Cavalry is just a diversion," Baldus interrupted. "A delaying tactic. He wants every minute he can get to recall his forces from the field. The real battle will be Paltina." He took a cut of veal. "I'm glad Bly's retired."

"We'll want to scout the city before the attack." Eudy carefully buttered her roll. She smiled; Eudy's smile was never pleasant. "Can you handle that, dear?"

Zilva, seated across from her, frowned and seemed uncomfortable with being there at all.

"What do you think?" Gulcasa passed Russell the carrots. He somehow made it look like a challenge. "How quickly will Paltina fall?"

Russell hadn't touched his meal, and he barely met any of their gazes. "Paltina will not fall easily." He glanced sidelong at Gulcasa, and his eyes tensed with anger. "The people have faith in the Gran Centurio."

"But do they have faith in the man who wields it?" Baldus countered.

Before Russell could answer, Eudy was smiling again. "Your progress in battle was magnificent, General Russell. I've heard our people are calling you the Astral Fencer."

"Astral Fencer?" Leon repeated. "Maybe just Asshole."

"The Valkyries also did well," Baldus said after a moment, offering approving nods to the twins. "Those who escaped today will bring fearsome news to Ordene."

"Yes," Gulcasa said, finishing his wine and smiling at the sisters. "I see I was not remiss in promoting the two of you."

"I still wonder," Leon broke in before either could respond, eyeing the two of them. "I've heard their voices slip. They have Fantasinian accents, or used to. Are you deaf, Gulcasa? Or will being betrayed by them make the war more interesting?"

"Perhaps you're wise not to trust everyone at this table," Gulcasa said blandly.

Later that night, Emilia returned to the dining room to ask a question about her role in the next day's attack. She knocked, hearing Nessiah's voice on the other side.

It cut off immediately. "Enter," said Gulcasa, tone flat. When he saw that it was Emilia and that she didn't rush in with catastrophic news, he held up his hand to her and turned back to Nessiah. "Finish what you were saying."

Nessiah stood in front of the cold fireplace, his shadow stretching before him; Emilia vaguely noticed that there was no light behind him, but she was concentrating on his words. He gave Emilia a pointed look (or non-look) of disapproval, but eventually spoke. "I warn you again that the ritual will not come easily for you. Your body is weak."

Gulcasa's eyes narrowed for just a moment, almost as though he were flinching, and his voice was cool. "You mean that my soul is too strong to easily submit."

"You may phrase it that way," Nessiah replied unconcernedly. "But flesh is weak, ever on the verge of death. If you are to have your way in this, you must have more power - or more wisdom - before attempting the Unbinding."

Gulcasa smoothed his features over, a sure sign he was trying to hide his anger. "You are dismissed, Nessiah."

Nessiah bowed. "And so easily." And vanished.

Emilia's face looked twenty different questions at once. Gulcasa sank into a chair and rubbed his face. "What did you want?"

Emilia opened her mouth to demand an explanation, her conversation with Luciana whirling through her thoughts. Then, seeing his weariness, she relaxed. "It's not important. Can I get you something?"

"Don't pity me, Emilia," he snapped.

She walked around the table, trying to gauge how much he'd tell her. "What's this ritual?"

"Unbinding Brongaa," Gulcasa said tiredly, removing his hand from his eyes and staring at the floor. "Brongaa sleeps. In me. In the Obsidian Castle." Emilia bit back a surprised yelp, but he must have noticed something in her face, because he explained. "The Obsidian Castle was the ancient seat of Brongaa's lineage. Castle Bronquia was built to protect the spire, and though dynasties have been overthrown and myths forgotten, the Dragon lies at the heart of Bronquia."

Emilia thought of the people she'd met in the countryside, who knew nothing of the Dragon but still struggled to make Bronquia better. "I think there are other things supporting Bronquia."

"Be that as it may, waking Brongaa will not be simple." He gazed sightlessly at her a moment, then away. "I will have to go to Lost Aries. There is an ancient site there... It may make things easier."

Emilia stepped closer to him, her hands tightly clasped. "Is it...going to kill you?"

"I am not doing all of this just to die," Gulcasa answered. "I intend to see my harvest's yield."

Turning that over in her head, Emilia reached for a decanter of wine and poured him a glass, sipping some of it herself before passing it over. Hoping the wine would soothe him, she waited until he'd drunk some before asking her next question. "When did you decide to do all this? To...awaken Brongaa?" She sat across from him. "You never talked about the Dragon when we were little."

Gulcasa studied his wineglass, the lamplight burning red flares across its dark surface. "There were always stories about my mother, and though I wasn't supposed to hear them, I learned some things." He glanced out the window. "She was afraid of her blood, I think, so she did not show herself much to the people. I think that's what made them hate her."

Emilia remembered Langford's words: Gulcasa wasn't human, he was a beast, a demon. She shook them away.

"And as I grew older, I learned more. There are hidden records and..."

"Did Nessiah tell you?"

He really looked at her this time, a tense look. It was answer enough.

"Who is Nessiah?" Emilia tried.

"A way to power." Gulcasa finished his wine, looking away. "Anything beyond that is of no importance."

"Then why is he helping you? Don't tell me he's a great Bronquian patriot."

"I suspect - and he has let some things slip - that he bears a grudge against the Fantasinian royals."

"So you've been planning this, okay." She chewed her lower lip. "Did you know what it would do? I mean, the - the burning and stuff?"

He glanced at her. "Yes."

"And...what about your Dragon Knights?"

"They certainly know now. Most call it a divine honor."

Emilia wasn't sure if that reassured her. She traced a shallow scar on the table's edge. "And...why didn't you tell me before now?" She couldn't look up at first, and only hesitantly lifted her eyes.

"You've seen your own reaction," Gulcasa said after a moment. "Would_ you_ tell you?"

She leapt to her feet. "You - you - How dare you joke right now!"

It hadn't exactly been a joke, but Gulcasa's voice was more serious. "I'm telling you now." He sighed. "Presently, I'll have to disclose more to the others..." The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "They will not be so importunate with their questions."

Emilia stamped her foot. "Fine! I'm not going to worry about you anymore." Somehow, shouting at him was so much better than talking about Nessiah or Brongaa. "I've had it!"

"Good night, Emilia," Gulcasa said.

"Good night!" she threw back, stomping out of the room. "And I hope you have bad dreams!"

But she hoped he didn't. Because she did.


	17. Chapter 17

17.

The highest tower of the royal palace was called the Clarion. Marble, with a domed roof, a man could speak from it and be heard perfectly by anyone in the courtyard below. On the third day of battle, with the Bronquian army entrenched in Paltina's city, the imperial aerial unit circling over No Man's Land, Ordene slowly walked the spiral steps to the Clarion.

The Bronquian invasion had been fought every step in its march to Paltina, and each Bronquian victory spurred swifter rumors, greater fears. Zilva's assassins struck quickly, often picking off key lieutenants the night before a battle. Fantasinian captains had cursed Russell across battlefields, had run from Aegina's charge only to find her suddenly behind them, cutting off their retreat. Veterans remembered famous battles they'd lost to Baldus, and their predictions for the coming battles were bleak. Leon was given free reign in his savagery, running down soldiers and civilians alike. Emilia remained the juggernaut's eyes, curtailing any surprise maneuvers from the enemy. And Gulcasa blazed across the battlefield like wildfire.

They'd broken through Paltina's gate after a day's struggle. After half a day of bloody street fighting, they'd secured the city, Ordene's army falling back to defend the castle.

As Emilia swept over as patrol, she saw movement high in the castle, and she glided down to Gulcasa, where he reviewed the lines. She hovered, ready to kick Twit up in a moment. "I think Ordene's going to speak."

The emperor squinted against the dust stirred up by Twit's wings. "Excellent. Return to the sky."

As Emilia surged up, she heard the voice of a herald swell from the Clarion. "His Royal Highness, King Ordene Arn Artwaltz, thirty-first of his line, most blessed of the Holy Sword."

Gulcasa, unable to project his voice to the Clarion, answered the address by riding forward, the crest of the Dragon gleaming on his two shields.

Now Ordene spoke, and though his voice boomed from the tower, Emilia thought she could hear a slight tremble. "Emperor of Bronquia, I bid you lay down your arms or face the indiscriminate slaughter of your army. Your own life is forfeit. But surrender, and we will lay waste neither to your people, nor your country. Accept our terms, retain both your people's love and your honor."

An appeal to ideals. He must be frightened.

In reply, Gulcasa had his dragon rear to its full height and roar, louder than any human voice, answered by every dragon in the dragon cavalry. Then he wheeled and rode back to his front line.

Emilia had already destroyed the Royal Aerial Force the day before. Once Eudy's magicians had forced the royal archers into a frantic retreat, Emilia sent her riders harrying the walls, dropping rocks, stooping, even lifting soldiers in their claws and throwing them to the ground. It was easy - too easy, Emilia decided, and she rose above the melee on the walls, searching for reinforcements.

Light sparked in her eyes, then a fireball hurtled towards her. Twit needed no prompt to dodge, squawking, and Emilia hastily dropped altitude.

"Back off, you buzzards!" Queen Sigrid approached, leading a cadre of magicians, her long brown hair in disarray.

She could fall back, but that would leave the desperate Sigrid free to blast the fighters below, even at the risk of hurting her own men. Emilia raised her arm, gathering her unit to her. "A Dragon General isn't afraid of fire! Let's go!"

Sigrid had made a crucial mistake, attacking Emilia before her unit had time to chant their fire spells. The griffons were swifter. After the first surge, Emilia backed Sigrid against a rampart, holding her in place and shielding her from harm. Gulcasa wanted prisoners.

"You filth!" The queen's voice shook.

And then the air itself shook as the great front doors to Paltina Castle were breached.

Once the defenders on the walls had either fled or been killed, Emilia left two riders to guard the queen while she took to the air again. She flew close to the castle, trying to understand the muted sounds of battle. She flew up the great central tower, to the Clarion. No one stood directly under its dome, but she could hear shouts echoing.

"Where is this sword?" came Gulcasa's voice, then a long draconic growl. "I wanted to break it over my knee."

"To me!" Ordene was shouting. "Quick-" And Ordene was under the dome, backing away quickly, attended by two swordsmen.

In a moment, Gulcasa, still mounted appeared from the stairway, the dragon's length curving against the small room.

"You can still spare your people!" Ordene's voice thundered through the Clarion, down to the battlefield below.

"They only want to be spared your whimpering." Gulcasa laughed. Under the dome, he had no room to swing his scythe, so he drove it forward like a spear, gutting one swordsmen, slinging him to the side.

Ordene backed onto the balcony. Hovering, Emilia could see the sweat in long trails down his neck. "You will not win Fantasinia by shedding its lifeblood."

"If you had any right to rule this land-" Gulcasa stabbed the other swordsman "-you would have been able to stop me." The dragon stepped onto the balcony, affording Gulcasa ample room to raise his scythe.

"There is no justice in carnage!" Ordene shouted.

Gulcasa cut him in half. The dragon stepped forward, standing on the corpse, its roar blasting across the twilight.

"Raise the scarlet flag!" Gulcasa shouted. "The Holy Sword is broken!"

Emilia heard a yell from below. She swiveled in the saddle, then swooped down. Sigrid was struggling with her guards, trying to pull past them to the edge of the rampart. Emilia drew her mace and came level with the rampart. "Don't you dare."

Sigrid bit her lip for a moment. "Let me."

One of the riders got a firm grip on her wrists, dragging her back. "If you wanted to chose your own death, you should've killed yourself earlier."

Emilia swallowed.

Gulcasa wasn't long in joining them on the ramparts, throwing Ordene's head at his queen's feet. "Where is your daughter, Sigrid? A family should be together in times of grief." Of course she didn't answer. He glanced over his shoulder at one of Zilva's assassins. "Has anyone seen her?"

"We are still searching, Emperor."

"I have no time for ceremony." Gulcasa rode forward, gesturing the griffon riders aside. Her hands released, Sigrid began summoning a fire spell. Unperturbed, Gulcasa beheaded her with an easy swing of his scythe.

"Secure the castle," he told his attendants. "We must be ready to hold it if any Fantasinian hopefuls try something. And continue the search for the princess."


	18. Chapter 18

18.

Emilia was going through Princess Yggdra's stuff.

It wasn't in the best of taste, she knew that. Likewise, she remembered how relieved she'd been when no one had rifled through her belongings during her imprisonment. But then, no one had been living in her, Emilia's, rooms during the revolution. And she was curious and so keyed-up from the battle that she couldn't spend the long night hours in sleep. And besides - she told herself - this might give her some clues as to the princess' whereabouts.

She was searching through the back of the wardrobe, having just unearthed a very expensive set of beads and jewelry-making tools, when there was a knock at the door. Emilia backed out of the closet, feeling odd about answering. This morning, this had been Princess Yggdra's room. Now it was hers, for the time being.

"There's no sign of her," Baldus had said earlier. "But there's no sign of the First, Second, and Third Cavalries either. My guess is that they were removed during the second day of the siege to escort the princess to safety. Or perhaps they're a decoy, covering her escape."

Opening the door revealed one of Gulcasa's message runners. "His Imperial Highness gives you this with his compliments and bids you to memorize it." He passed her a scroll.

She unrolled it. It was a map of the Verlaine region.

"Is that all?" Emilia asked dubiously. "No helpful explanation?"

The courier bowed. "He will be meeting with his commanders at first light."

First light, at this point, was barely four hours away. Emilia dismissed the runner, shut the door, and moved across the room, studying the map. She sat cross-legged on Yggdra's overstuffed, canopied bed (really, this one bedroom was grander than anything she'd seen in Bronquia) and tried to memorize the map. She kept fidgeting, glancing around the room, nervous at being here, trying to shake the thoughts of battle from her mind, Gulcasa's connection to Brongaa.

Finally, she took the bead set, selected some small jet and garnet beads, and began making a bracelet. Her hands occupied, her mind was free to learn the map.

* * *

When Emilia, carrying a fortifying mug of three-parts-cocoa-one-part-coffee in her hands, found her brother, he was already attended by Leon, Russell and Baldus, the three of them standing at a rampart overlooking the courtyard. Below, drafted laborers were already repairing damage dealt during the siege.

None of them looked as though they'd gotten much sleep, but Gulcasa's movements were brisk, his bearing alert. "...I doubt there will be any trouble from Lennessey, but I want a strong force there just the same. Meanwhile, I've sent Luciana and Zilva to harry the errant cavalry units in the south; Leon, you will ride to their support." He nodded to the Black Knight, telling him to leave _now_. And, catching sight of Emilia - "Have your riders recovered from battle?"

"Yeah." She sipped her drink and wished she'd asked for some whipped cream with it. "Most of them should be ready to fly in half a day."

"I want you to take two units east to Embellia."

Russell looked sharply at Gulcasa, and Leon chuckled. "You've developed a taste for seafood?"

"Do you want me to attack the Undines?" Emilia asked dubiously, imagining the chaos a fight between sea-faring and airborne warriors would be.

"No," Gulcasa said slowly, as if tasting the word. "No, I intend to let the Undines take care of things themselves. In fact, they've already started. I want you to observe the area. I don't care if you're seen, but engage the enemy only when necessary. If you receive no further instructions, return to me three weeks from today, evening."

She bowed. "No problem."

Fantasinia's royal mews were barely large enough to host Emilia's riders, and she made her way through the clutter of tack and makeshift stalls. "Is it me," she asked after a moment, "or are all of you wearing red?"

"With your permission, General," one of her riders said, gesturing to the red armband each of them wore. "As your personal unit, we thought it was..." She shrugged. "Fitting."

Emilia laughed. "To symbolize my temper? Okay, Scarlet Riders, we're going to Embellia."

* * *

Emilia knew there was probably a good reason Gulcasa had sent her there. The Sovereignty of Embellia was a long-standing Fantasinian ally, and Emilia initially thought they might declare war on Bronquia. She found nothing of the sort.

"I don't understand this," Emilia muttered to Tedra, one of her riders. Their griffons perched on a high boulder in the wreckage from an ancient rock fall. They could see dust surrounding a small human settlement further down the valley, hear the sounds of battle. "Why are the Undines whaling on humans? They're citizens of Embellia too."

"How well are humans usually treated?" Tedra was a rider, not a scholar, but she clearly wanted to be helpful. "Maybe that's normal?"

"I've always heard Queen Emelone was fair." Emilia frowned, tapping her chin. "Maybe the humans want to side with Brother...? But they're tight with Fantasinia - Argh, this doesn't make sense." At eight days in the field, she was feeling very much out of the loop. All of her messages to the capital were dull, mainly to relay that she was still alive out there. Griffon riders had come to her intermittently with news - Luciana had found Yggdra in the south, but she'd escaped. Eudy had destroyed the First and Second Cavalries, but the Third had managed to reunite with the princess. There was a rumor Yggdra had the Holy Sword, and that she and the Third Army had declared war on Gulcasa. Twit clawed the ground, feeling Emilia's impatience, and the princess of Bronquia glanced up at the sky, gauging how many more hours it was till she could return to Paltina.

With a sigh, she launched, she and Tedra meeting the other riders circling slowly over the battle. The Undines had the upper hand. This human settlement didn't even had a local militia to protect them. "What's going on?" No one was flying close enough to hear her, but Twit angled her ears back. "They've taken the town, and they're close enough to retreat to the Water Palace. So why are they lingering?"

Frowning, she dropped altitude, so low she could smell the wreckage from battle. The Undines were piling the human corpses against the wall of the largest house, a crowd clustered around them, working at something. A few glanced up as the griffon passed overhead, but they didn't slow their activity.

Emilia made a pass as close as she dared, just out of the range of their long tridents. She moved quickly - and she saw it only for a moment - but her stomach seemed to turn to vapor, then solidify, rolling inside of her.

She angled high into the air. "Pull back! We're going to Paltina!"

The Scarlet Riders barely hesitated before sweeping forward to obey her, their wing beats carrying them swiftly to the capital.

* * *

Soldiers, still repairing damage inflicted by the siege, scattered as the griffons landed. Emilia unstrapped her legs and dismounted, instinctively dodging Twit's wing as she folded it. She left the mews courtyard, assuming someone would see to the griffon without her asking, trying to remember the quickest route to her brother's temporary apartments.

She shook her head. _I've been away a few days, and I don't know if he's even still here!_

Russell was the first person she saw that she recognized, and she called out to him. He was sitting at the edge of one of the training rings, examining his sword from which he drew his title. Emilia vaguely wondered if he was contemplating suicide, and later she'd be more concerned for his sake. "Where is the emperor? Is he still here?"

"There's bad news?" Russell asked slowly, guardedly. Maybe he was happy. Of course, bad news for Gulcasa could end in bad news for Flone, depending on where Gulcasa's temper led him.

"Well, is he? In the castle?"

"Yes, he-" If Russell wanted to know more, he wouldn't hear it from Emilia; she was already running towards the White Phoenix Castle, the red dragon flying atop its highest tower.

"Enter!" Gulcasa snapped as she knocked on the door. She found him leaning over a letter, arms braced against his desk, and when he saw her, his face shifted to wariness. "Why have you returned early? What's happened? Why didn't you send a-"

"A messenger couldn't have flown any faster than I did." Emilia crossed the room, belatedly noticing that Nessiah stood silhouetted by the window. As she watched, he levitated his book, opened it, and poised his hand over a page.

"What's happened?" Gulcasa repeated.

Emilia swallowed, her throat still dry from flying. "The Undines, they're attacking the Embellian human settlements."

Gulcasa considered that a moment, then nodded. "And?"

"They - after a battle, I saw them piling up the corpses and-" she'd practiced saying this many times, but she still hesitated "-draining their blood. Into bottles. Especially the children."

"Draining their blood?" Gulcasa repeated, mystified. Then he glanced at Nessiah. Nessiah gazed back; at least, he steadily faced the emperor.

"Interesting," Gulcasa said dryly.

"I don't know what they're doing," Emilia went on. "Isn't blood used for really powerful necromancy?"

"I don't think that's what they're using it for."

"What? B-but you didn't even know they were doing it until a second ago. How could you figure it out so fast?"

"I sent...an agent into Embellia to stir up trouble. I just didn't know it would take this form."

Nessiah closed his book with a soft smack.

Breathing hard, Emilia whirled on the strategist. "Do you mind? Or has my brother ordered you to lurk in the background and be totally useless?"

With almost exaggerated slowness, Nessiah reopened his book and tilted it up to read.

_Not that he_ can _read_, Emilia fumed.

"Do you have any other news?" Gulcasa said, still edging on impatience.

"I've seen the Royal Army heading east-" his expression didn't change "-but you already know that." She glanced at the letter. "Something bad's in that, right?"

Gulcasa drummed his fingers against the letter. "The Royal Army's counterattack has slowed our progress east. I've only managed to secure a handful of watchtowers, supplies..." His voice trailed off, exasperated. "And I'm not certain their garrisons can hold them."

"I can support them. I'm faster than any army."

"No," Gulcasa said before she'd finished. "You're staying here for the time being."

The blood tingled unpleasantly in Emilia's face, her cheeks paling. "Did I - Are you punishing me for leaving my post early?"

"Your riders need to rest. They will have a difficult task presently." He straightened. "And if I need it, I'll have you support Baldus in the Lennessey Mountains."

"What happens if we lose those towers?" Emilia asked.

Gulcasa rolled up the letter. "We press on."


	19. Chapter 19

19.

Despite scouting in the Lennessey Mountains, Emilia had time to make six bracelets, two necklaces, one bead ring and ten pairs of earrings before Gulcasa summoned her for anything more official than a scouting report. While she worked, she racked up a mental tab of the Royal Army's progress.

Yggdra did seize the eastern watchtowers, burning what supplies the army didn't carry. Gulcasa said it made no difference, as the Imperial Army still received supplies from Framm Granary and through Karona. The Royals tried to treat with the Undines, found themselves at a stalemate, and ended up laying waste to Embellia. Emilia could see that this was helpful - extremely - even suspiciously - but she didn't like how satisfied Gulcasa seemed with it. Undines who managed to escape the slaughter found sanctuary in the Bronquian forces.

"Did you plan this?" Emilia asked. "I've heard rumors, something about a jewel the Undines needed to survive being stolen..."

"I am not accountable for Princess Yggdra's actions," Gulcasa answered composedly.

Miserable, Emilia didn't press the question. And, she reasoned once she'd had time to brood on it, everything fell under the Bronquian code. If the Undines had deserved to live, they would have been strong enough to defeat Yggdra.

So that meant Yggdra deserved to live?

Yes. For now. Until she tried to take Paltina back.

* * *

At the knock on the door, Emilia tilted her head but didn't look up. "Enter."

Gulcasa walked in, which was a rarity. Nowadays, she'd only seen him in his study, often attended by aides or one of his commanders. He closed the door, began to walk towards her, then paused.

"Sister... I know you're restless, but isn't this hint a bit elaborate?"

Emilia, cross-legged on the bed, sat among rows of beads, looking for just the right combination of colors for necklace she was working on. "I didn't plan it, but I guess it is." She sat up straighter. "Do you have a job for me?"

"You remember the map of Verlaine I gave you?"

"Perfectly. Every squiggle."

He sat on the trunk at the foot of her bed. "In two days time, you will fly for Verlaine, to the Black Rose territory."

Emilia quickly recalled everything she knew about east Verlaine. "Branthese Manor? Why? Are we going to hold Lord Roswell hostage?"

"The Royal Army is approaching Verlaine and-"

"And let me guess, you've sent someone to stir things up."

"Yes." Gulcasa leaned forward, elbow on the bed, to show the importance of his words. He succeeded in sending a line of turquoise beads rolling off the bedspread and clattering to the floor.

After apologizing and dumping the beads back onto the blanket, he continued. "You've heard of the Ankhs?"

"Yeah. They're magic enhancers."

"That was their intended use. But the White and Black Roses are shortly to learn their capacity for destruction."

Emilia set the necklace down in her lap, giving Gulcasa's words her full attention. "You don't want Verlaine fighting on Yggdra's side, so you're going to have them wipe each other out?"

"And gain us two very powerful weapons in the process. Which brings me to you." He stood and began to pace. "The enemy will be searching for the Ankhs, so we have to spirit them away separately. The White Ankh will be moved by land, but I think the Black Ankh should go by air."

Emilia jumped up, beads pinging across the room. "No problem!"

Gulcasa smiled, amused. "You're eager."

"That's what sitting around uselessly does to me. Honestly, you could've sent me out sooner. You keep sending Leon, and all he does is lose."

Gulcasa's expression darkened. "He'd better not lose in Verlaine. He will be guarding the Black Ankh. Ideally, the two Roses will annihilate each other, but we will still have the Royals to contend with."

Emilia hesitated, wanting to ask if he thought Yggdra would make it to Paltina. Then wanted to ask about Brongaa - It had been so long since Gulcasa had said anything. Had he finally given that up?

"Do you have any questions?" Gulcasa's question was routine.

"No," Emilia said, making her tone confidant.

* * *

As she flew east, Emilia heard reports of the ground soldiers' progress. Russell moved into position in the White Rose domain, showing himself (at least superficially) as Lady Rosary Esmeralda's ally. And, barely within a day, Rosary had launched an attack against the Black Rose, seeking his Ankh. With Paltina's recent fall, she wanted no competitor for power in Verlaine.

Continued news made Emilia fly faster. After pushing Rosary back to her own lands, Lord Roswell, secretly allied with Leon, had launched a counterattack, catching Verlaine in civil war. Yggdra, having lost no time in meddling, first supported Roswell against Rosary, then helped Rosary defend her manor from Roswell, shedding blood on both sides and winning gains for neither.

Yggdra responded to the impasse decisively, and within hours, wild rumors rippled across the countryside villages. The Royal Army had marched on the White Rose, destroyed the manor, and killed Lady Rosary in a long, bloody battle.

Emilia could see her units' shadows flicker over the plains far below, over the wreckage of the White Rose. Ahead, she could see a great river of rising dust across the Black Rose region. Roswell still lived; Leon must be dealing with that. And, based on her past actions, Yggdra was likely still involved.

Emilia rolled her eyes, though no one could see it. The imperial forces in Verlaine were distracted. Yggdra could break north for Lennessey without much difficulty, but_ no_. She couldn't bring herself to stay out of things.

Emilia tapped Twit with her left heel, tracking southeast. In the rising haze of dust - and smoke, she now smelled - she saw the outlines of the Black Rose manor. Zilva had sent her a message two days ago. The Ankh should be waiting on the roof.

From what she should could tell, Roswell and a small retinue had run into the Royal Army's waiting lines, affording him some safety. The Third Cavalry (and a group of rabble she didn't recognize...and did she see some Undines?) were trying to drive Leon's forces from the manor grounds.

Emilia dropped altitude, flying so low she almost buzzed Leon. But she needed to get his attention, to let him know that he wouldn't have to defend the manor much longer. Looking over her shoulder, she saw him give her a rather emphatic hand gesture.

Zilva and several of her assassins stood on the manor's highest rampart, none touching the tarp-wrapped bundle at their center. Even this high up, landing would leave Emilia momentarily vulnerable, so she signaled her riders to make protective sweeps around the manor, then glided down. She wouldn't trust this parcel with anyone but herself.

"Be quick." Emilia glanced over her shoulder, checking for danger. As swiftly as they could, the women fitted a harness around Twit's stomach and haunches. Then - very gingerly - they bound the parcel behind Emilia. It felt too warm at her back.

"Don't drop it," Zilva said. "If you do, only you can answer for the consequences."

If she did... Emilia tightened her jaw. At best, Gulcasa would strip all of her authority. At worst, the Ankh would fall, detonate on impact, and wipe out part of the continent.

They tugged on the parcel several times to see if it was secure, then stepped back. Emilia lifted off, her riders circling around her in a defensive formation. She dropped low over Leon again, telling him he could return to the offensive, though he'd probably wait for Zilva's confirmation before really cutting loose.

_And he'd better take them down. _She glanced worriedly at the Ankh. _The Royals have caused enough trouble.

* * *

_

The next five days were some of the most nerve-racking Emilia could remember. They weren't attacked - ever - and that was much of the problem. She was carrying one of the most powerful magical devices known to man. Someone must be following her. Someone had to be.

She rested as briefly as she possibly could, always keeping at least three riders alert. In the air, they never relaxed, shifting positions, scanning ahead and behind for trouble.

Finally, at sunrise, she reached Karona, much to the relief of the other Scarlet Riders.

* * *

"C'mon, birdies! Let's see you lay some eggs!"

Oh. That was just _it_.

With a shriek to rival Twit's, Emilia sent her griffon into a spiraling dive, not caring about the arrows, the tree tops, diving like a falcon on the stubby-faced, leaky-nosed, cross-eyed, corn-munching, poop-brained archer. His eyes, usually so dull, opened wide with crystalline fear as -

Drat. She always woke up just as it was getting good.

Emilia rolled over in bed, pressing a hand to her lower back. She should be grateful she had a bed of her own, even a room of her own. It was her privilege as a general. But she doubted her riders, sleeping in narrow beds and on the floor, were any less comfortable.

After a moment, she decided that being awake and grumpy was preferable to being semi-asleep and in pain, so she crawled out of bed, shivering in Fort Karona's cold air.

In the mess hall, even the commanders were eating gray, gooey oatmeal for breakfast. Emilia grimaced at hers, than sat down across from Luciana (if it _was _Luciana).

"Have you heard anything?" the Valkyrie asked abruptly while Emilia kneaded her forehead. "I've just received a summons to go to Lunamina Pass."

"That's weird. Maybe they've finally found the Royals again." Yggdra and her men had gone mysteriously missing for the past few weeks, and Emilia could only imagine Gulcasa's frustration at not being able to locate his enemy. Now sure her eyes would remain open, Emilia plopped her spoon into the oatmeal.

"Yes, but they think she's coming from Lennessey?" Luciana laughed humorlessly. "As if she'd get past Baldus. Not to mention my sister. Still," she amended, giving Emilia a look, "at least I'm not _stuck here_."

"I have plenty to do," Emilia shot back.

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

Emilia imagined herself using her spoon to catapult a gob of oatmeal at the Valkyrie. During her weeks in Karona, she'd been ordered to suppress a local Fantasinian uprising. The problem was that they kept largely in the forests, one place where griffons couldn't fly freely. And...

"What's the name of their leader?" Luciana asked. "The archer? Booz, or..."

"Cruz," Emilia half-snarled. Hmph. Well, sooner or later, Cruz was going to _loose._ Maybe get a _bruise _or two in the future. They'd see.

That night, after a long day of skirmishing, she was glad Luciana wasn't there to witness the arrow stuck in Twit's haunch.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

"'...and while they're pains in the butt, they haven't managed to cut off our supply line.' Do you have that memorized?"

"Yes, General Emilia," the messenger answered.

"Great." Emilia, sitting on the edge of her cot, drummed her nails against her knee. "Post script: 'I swear, upon the Obsidian Castle, that I will bring that snot-snouted archer back to Flarewerk's dungeons in time for my fifteenth birthday. So if you think you need to send Leon to help me, think again.'" Then, rattled off by rote: "'This messenger by the token of Emilia, Princess of Bronquia, to Gulcasa, His Highness the Emperor.'" She stretched. "That's it. Sorry it wasn't more interesting."

Just as the messenger was bowing, the door banged open. "A message for General Emilia!"

Emilia blinked, then stood. "Hold on-" to her own messenger. "What's happened?" She was used to couriers at odd hours, but they were usually calmer.

The messenger threw herself into a bow. "I was sent by Magister Eudy. The Royal Army is besieging Framm Granary."

Emilia did some quick calculations. "When were you sent?"

"Yesterday morning, General, I flew as fast as I could. Captain Inzaghi's with her, but she wasn't sure if they'd be able to hold their ground."

"Yggdra must be breaking for the capital...and the Valkyrie's down there, she'll slow them down, but..." Emilia looked up quickly. "Did Eudy send word to my brother? Good, I'm flying for Framm." She nodded to her own messenger. "You have fun news for him now. Fly like crazy! Go! And you-" to Eudy's messenger "-I know you're tired, but you can rest as soon as you've alerted my unit."

By the time Emilia had changed into her gear (she was still buckling her breastplate on as she hurried out of her room) and come to the mews, her riders were almost entirely assembled.

"We're flying for Paltina," Emilia said, quickly studying the wound on Twit's haunch (it wasn't fully healed, but too bad). "The Royal Army's coming, and we aren't going to snub them." _You haven't received permission to do this_._ Do you want to be court-martialed?_ a voice nattered in the back of her head. _A good general takes the initiative. Right.

* * *

_

Emilia had no time to be kind to her riders, and they all knew it. In twenty-two hours, they only stopped once for a brief rest. Then they were up again, flying steadily. Emilia debated where she should go - immediately to Framm Granary, or to Paltina? She decided on Paltina. If Yggdra had broken through, Gulcasa would need her in the capital. If Yggdra had been held back, Emilia had time to reconnoiter with her brother.

_Nix the reconnoitering, _Emilia decided that sunset, as she saw the light flashing off Paltina's roofs, then the clusters of flashing lights at the castle gate. A glittering red smoke blasted above the gate._ That's Eudy's cannonfire, she must've pulled back. But it looks like she's still juicing them up, drat... _

The Scarlet Riders landed on the castle walls, by Eudy's cannons. "Just checking in," Emilia said, though she glanced back to gauge the condition of her riders. They were all tired, but they hadn't come here to laze around. "I'm not going to let those Royals enjoy their Time Out."

"Great, get me a little more time to prepare," Eudy rattled off. "Leon's waiting inside, so once you're through with them, they'll have another nice surprise. What's it going to be? Rocks?"

"No." Boulders would be too much of a strain on her already taxed riders. "We're diving."

"Good." Eudy turned back to her cannons. "I want to see blood, Emilia!"

As one, the Scarlet Riders launched, dividing into squadrons of four each, angling their flight towards the sun. The Royal Army must have dearly expected a lull in the fight, but Emilia could see them rallying. A unit of Undines (how had Yggdra won _them_ over?) lifted their tridents, but Emilia had no fear any of her riders would take them on. She focused on a small band of mountain rabble - thieves, by the looks of things. They were closest to the gate, and besides, they looked... smirky. Gripping her mace, the sun at her back, she sent her squadron into a slow dive.

It was probably one of the most dangerous things a griffon rider could do aside from fighting on the ground. But it was also the fastest. Rather glad that mortal peril was passing by as a blur, Emilia swung her mace out, feeling it hit once - twice - she heard someone's skull break - then she was pulling out of her dive, gaining altitude, checking over her shoulder. One of her riders was on the ground, her griffon flailing helplessly, the bandits closing in on her. Emilia bit her lip and swung her unit around, sending them into another steep dive.

The bandits must have thought she'd only fly from the sun, because they weren't prepared for the second dive. Most of them were hit in the back before they fully realized what had happened, scrambling to turn themselves. One, unhooded and blue-cloaked, leapt at Emilia as she passed, his axe just falling short of Twit's flank. _He'll go for the wings next time. I have to be careful._

High in the sky, Emilia could assess her entire unit. Several of them had fallen, and she knew the remainder were weakening. She glanced at the ramparts. Another plume of smoke broke from the cannons, deep maroon. They were almost ready. Could she pull back?

Those bandits, despite taking losses, showed no inclination to retreat from the gate.

_We can do one more pass. We have to._ She felt the sun's heat on her back, and a small, stray thought came to her. She was flying. No one could touch her up here. She could just leave, unhurt.

She went into her dive.

Her motions were automatic, the dive, the leveling off, swinging her mace; and then, as she was gathering herself to pull up, pain blazed through her left arm as someone grabbed it.

Twisting, she clobbered the bandit with her mace - it was the blue thief. He cried out, but his other hand grabbed her pack. "Little girls shouldn't fight!"

Emilia spared a glance for the sky. Her unit, seeing her trouble, was swinging around for another dive. Some of the bandits had circled her, but the others watched the griffons.

"I'm a general, you numbskull!" The bandit twisted back, releasing her left arm, dodging her mace. His other hand ripped her pack open. Emilia kicked Twit, the griffon winging furiously, beating the bandits back, attempting to take flight. Her unit swept down. And Emilia pulled free, surging over the bandits, their axes striking for Twit's stomach, her own legs, just barely missing. She couldn't resist throwing her head back and laughing, her two riders coming to join her.

Until she looked back at her pack.

And down at the blue bandit on the ground.

"BUNNY!" she screamed.

From far below, the blue bandit held Bunny high, making his left paw wave bye-bye.

Emilia collected herself for another assault, but she heard a boom from the ramparts - Eudy signaling that she was ready. In the cannon blasts, Emilia's riders would be in as much danger as Yggdra's forces.

Emilia cast another despairing look at Bunny. He'd been her father's gift, and -

No - damn, no, her riders were faltering. She couldn't risk their lives like this.

Baring her teeth, she signaled the withdrawal.

She let her exhausted riders fly low inside the castle walls, passing over Leon's cavalry as it waited by the south gate. Even some feet above him, she heard the snideness in the Black Knight's voice. "Fine flying weather?"

She backwinged, hovering over him, giving him the full benefit of her glare. "Hey, I softened them up for _you_. You - you better appreciate it!"

"Why're your feathers so ruffled, Emilia? Did one of them call you a little girl?"

"They-" And before she knew it, she was shouting again, startling some of the war horses. "They stole Bunny!"

Leon needed no reminding who Bunny was. "They - did?" He wasn't even bothering to hide his laughter. "I should give the bastard who did it a medal!"

With a snarl of rage, Emilia pealed away from him.

* * *

Soldiers and messengers dashed back and forth within the emperor's encampment, preparing the defenses. After telling her unit to rest (but not disarm), Emilia made a sweep of the camp, seeing her brother conferring with several of his captains at once. She had to restrain herself from stooping on the group, scattering everyone but her brother.

He gestured her over after a moment, his captains riding to relay their orders to their units. The emperor was already mounted, his dragon clawing the ground. "I didn't expect to see you," Gulcasa said. Emilia braced, waiting either for punishment for taking matters into her own hands or praise for delaying Yggdra at the castle walls. Perhaps Gulcasa himself was wondering which tact would be better. After a moment, he merely nodded, showing that he excused her actions. "How are your riders holding up?"

"They need rest - they really do." Emilia bit her words off, realizing that it was her own fault they were so stretched. "They'll - Give them a day. Less than a day, if you need it. But they just need a couple moments to breathe."

"They should have at least a day, unless Yggdra can tunnel under the walls and bring them down around us." He looked Emilia up and down. "You've had a time of it."

Emilia glanced down at herself. Blood splattered the side of her skirt, and her left arm hung limply. It, she realized as the adrenaline was leeched from her body, was just beginning to hurt again. "I can still fly," she said vaguely.

"Fly to the castle and demand the attentions of Mother Paltina. She'll see to you."

Her arm throbbed, the rush from battle leaving her even more exhausted. "Gulcasa, they-" her voice caught "-they took Bunny."

Gulcasa blinked, slowly, as though the name "Bunny" was somehow familiar to him...he had heard it before, but he couldn't quite recall exactly why or when...

"Never mind!" Emilia snapped. "Just - hurt them, okay?" And kicking Twit, she lifted off, heading for the castle.

* * *

Emilia, sitting on Yggdra's bed, wearing only her shift, stared warily at the old woman everyone called Mother Paltina.

"Calm down, dear," she croaked.

"I don't trust you!" Emilia shouted back. "You're - you're named after Paltina! Of course you're going to poison me - or break my arm even worse than it already is - or kidnap me!"

"That's what you expect? My, people must be very vigorous in Bronquia. No, though you may be my enemies, I will not let people needlessly suffer."

"Get away!" Emilia tried to retreat to the other side of her bed, but nauseating pain rushed up her left arm - which, if it wasn't entirely broken, was very badly strained.

"Now, now, even the emperor has let me treat his injuries. Just lie down and let me take a look at your arm. You can't very well fly with it hurt."

"I sure can, you crone!" But Emilia did lie down, more for the feeling of softness under her arm than to oblige Mother Paltina. Outside, she could hear the boom of Eudy's cannonfire.

"Chew on this." Before Emilia could resist, Mother Paltina had slipped some herb in at the corner of her mouth.

It didn't matter that Emilia spat it back out. Her tongue had touched it, and she was sleeping in a minute.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

Emilia stood on the Clarion's balcony, her left arm in its heavy split, held in a sling. She chewed Mother Paltina's herbs with her side teeth. The herbs were safe, Mother Paltina told her, and they'd help the arm heal faster. However - she'd said this several times - healing the arm too fast would not necessarily be good for it.

_Sure. But I need to be in prime condition as soon as possible!_

Even from the Clarion, she couldn't see things perfectly. While she'd been sleeping, a rival griffon unit had taken control of Eudy's cannons, causing both the Magister and the Black Knight to retreat, allowing Yggdra to enter the castle grounds. Baldus had finally shown, attacking the Royals from the rear. She could see Gulcasa positioning himself at the castle's southern gate, he and Baldus preparing to pincer Yggdra's force.

_If_ Baldus could hold.

_If_ they could regain control of the cannons.

_If _Gulcasa could repulse them.

Emilia left the Clarion, running down the steps, her arm jostling painfully.

* * *

As she heard news that Baldus had withdrawn, that Zilva had failed to secure the cannons, that Gulcasa himself was now engaging the enemy, Emilia ordered her unit to remount. Orders darted through the castle as the entire imperial force prepared to evacuate.

Emilia ignored the worried glances from her riders as they saw her splint and sling. She quickly checked Twit (the wound in her haunch had reopened, but it couldn't be helped), then unclipped her reins and stowed them in her new pack. With her left arm broken, she had no use for them. She mounted, carefully buckling herself in with her right hand, then sat, ready for orders. Shadows spread from the west, away from the setting sun.

Finally, she heard battle horns - the call for retreat - and cavalrymen cantering through the streets, relaying the message, "Fall back to Karona!"

So they'd retaken Paltina. Well then. According to the Bronquian Code, they must deserve that much.

Emilia felt a surge of anger and wounded pride, then her eyes widened with a fear that numbed both. Had Gulcasa been killed? "Let's go!" she told her riders. "We need to guard the retreat!" They lofted high into the air, seeking the most complete view of the evacuation as possible. Her eyes sought the Dragon cavalry...

There - several units raced through the streets, Aegina's Valkyries guarding their back. But as fast as they went, their formation was defensive - they were guarding the rider at the center...

She flew down, getting a quick look. It was Gulcasa, blood splashed across his armor, but he was alive, holding himself upright, his left arm clamped over his middle.

From her vantage, Emilia could see that the retreat was scattering, but she could do little to prevent it. The only blessing seemed to be that Yggdra's men were just as exhausted and offered little pursuit as the Bronquian forces poured from the gates, clotting the western road to Karona.

* * *

It was fully nighttime when Gulcasa's company came to a brief halt on the main road, still having not even crossed the Machina Bridge. Emilia glided down and dismounted, making for the center of the group.

Majunga had been coaxed to sit, and Gulcasa lay back against him, hair clinging to his temples. He still held his hand over his side, over a broad dent in his breastplate.

Emilia knelt next to him, ignoring Aegina who crouched on his other side, barely noticing Nessiah where he stood at Gulcasa's feet. "It's your ribs, isn't it? Do you think they're broken?"

Gulcasa glanced at her but didn't answer the question, breathing hard, a weary harshness in his voice. "I - only need a moment to rest myself."

Aegina fumbled with her canteen. "Please - Your Highness-"

Swallowing, he accepted the canteen and drank, his breaths steadying. "We must keep moving. We'll be seen, and-" he winced "-I don't wish to face them just yet."

Emilia could hear wingbeats. She pressed her lips together, already knowing it was bad news.

"General Emilia." The rider landed and bowed from the saddle. "Your Imperial Highness."

Gulcasa turned his face towards the messenger. "Speak."

"Princess Yggdra and her personal unit have been sighted on Machina Road. They're heading this way."

"Damn," Gulcasa breathed. "No doubt she wishes to finish the job." He glanced at the dent. "I cannot fault her her bravery."

"Yes," came Nessiah's sliding voice, "but where there is bravery, there is a certain lack of...restraint."

Gulcasa blinked, then peered through the darkness at his strategist. "You have a plan, I trust?"

"You have long wanted to kidnap the girl," Nessiah replied serenely. "This, I think, is your chance."

"His Highness is wounded!" Aegina stood and glared at Nessiah; she was taller than him. "We need a plan of escape, not capture!"

"I believe His Imperial Highness is strong enough to remount and lure Princess Yggdra beyond Machina Bridge," Nessiah returned. "Where this - Elusive Valkyrie, was it? - may ambush her from behind, destroying the bridge in the process. That should nicely isolate the princess from any rescue attempts. And if any show up, I will attend to them myself."

Gulcasa considered it for less than half a minute. "Everyone, remount."

Emilia's job was, as always, to observe. She knew that there were probably alternate routes to the Machina Bridge and that Yggdra's forces would be aware of them. She, Emilia, would have to watch for any covert attacks. In the silence of the night sky, she watched Yggdra and her Valkyries pursue Gulcasa, he riding with deliberate slowness.

She kept the fingers of her right hand curled tightly together, worried that Gulcasa was straining himself, that his wound was worse than he'd thought. Yggdra fought fearlessly, relentless even as her Valkyries died around her. She would kill Gulcasa the moment she had the chance. A small unit pursued her in turn, those bandits Emilia had faced earlier. They were catching up to Yggdra. It was all Emilia could do to remain observing, not swoop down to chase the princess across the bridge.

Finally they crossed, finally Aegina sprang her ambush, and the bridge exploded in a torrent of smoke and sparks. In a moment, Majunga reared, and Gulcasa turned on Yggdra like a viper. Even this high, Emilia thought she might have heard Yggdra cry out as the Dragoons closed around her.

Emilia knew Nesisah possessed great magic, but she jumped as she saw his ambush appear behind the bandits, literally out of thin air. She glanced at Gulcasa - he was making good time along the road, leaving everything to Nessiah. She'd be able to fall back too. But she turned again towards Paltina, wanting to see those bandits die, even at Nessiah's hands instead of her own.

Nessiah had not yet engaged, the bandits trying to work themselves into a defensive line. Red light sparkled in the darkness. Emilia blinked. Had she seen that?

She squinted, Twit squawking as there was a sudden flash of red light. Emilia couldn't see anything at first, light-blinded, but as she blinked, the night resolved itself into a red haze. She scanned the battlefield. There were the bandits, in a panic. And - where was Nessiah's unit?

She saw no trace of the soldiers sent to accompany him, only the strategist himself, holding sparks of red light in each palm.

There was another flash of light, Nessiah drawing a sword.

At this distance, Emilia couldn't see it perfectly. But she didn't have to.

* * *

When he saw her, Gulcasa called his company to slow their breakneck pace. "Has Nessiah dealt with our pursuit?"

Emilia flapped down, and Gulcasa halted the line, his Dragoons crowding behind him. "I - Back off, all of you, I need to make a report!" She knew this would raise questions, but she didn't want universal alarm if they all heard her news.

Gulcasa, perhaps heartened by his victory, sat upright, Yggdra's limp figure across the pommel of his saddle. He rested one hand on her back, either to hold her steady or to be aware of the moment she moved. He gestured his company away, riding several paces towards Emilia. He kept his voice low. "What happened?"

Emilia swallowed and relayed what she'd seen, trying to be as clear and brief as possible.

Gulcasa frowned, his eyes narrowed. "So he destroyed his own unit and did no damage to our enemies, and has..." He looked up at the sky, his expression distant. "...We can discuss it later. We must ride for Karona, and quickly!"


	22. Chapter 22

22.

Emilia winced - then gritted her teeth, tears pricking the corners of her eyes as she pulled her dress over her head, the bulky splint catching in her sleeve. She grabbed a pinch of Mother Paltina's herbs, hoping they'd numb the pain (were they actually doing any good?), then awkwardly buttoned the back of her dress one-handed. At times like this, she truly missed Valena.

Though they'd only arrived at Karona late last night, she was already restless. Every time she'd closed her eyes, she'd seen Nessiah, the flashing red lights... Emilia slumped downstairs to the mess hall (even though they had buttery biscuits - for once - _and_ some honey-sweetened ham - it must be because Gulcasa was there) and collected her breakfast. She didn't sit down to eat, wrapping her things in a cloth napkin, taking a mug of coffee in her other hand (cream, but no sugar) and walking back into the corridors.

Her riders were relishing well-deserved rests, so she had no reason to check on them. She took a big bite of biscuit, the chewing helping her concentrate, then set off for Gulcasa's rooms. As much as she didn't want to think about it, they might as well get past this conversation.

She almost forgot to knock, she was so preoccupied. "Enter." Emilia walked in while chewing on a slice of ham.

Gulcasa, probably to his displeasure, was in bed. He was dressed and sitting upright, a pile of papers next to him. Emilia could see the outlines of a bandage beneath his tunic. The injury hadn't affected his appetite, it seemed; there was a tray of plates and flatware on his bedside table, stripped of all food.

"I was just going to send for you." Closer, Gulcasa looked tired, his shoulders slumped, his eyes ringed with weariness. He waited until she sat cross-legged on the foot of his bed. "Tell me everything you remember about the ambush."

Emilia rotated the coffee mug in her hands. "Well...like I said. After you cut out, Nessiah's unit appeared behind those bandits - they say the leader's named Milanor. The Silver Wolf or something? More like the Dingy Gray Water Rat-"

"-appeared behind the bandits."

"Yeah. And - and there were these red sparks, then a bright red light, and a haze - how come you didn't see it?"

"I wasn't looking back." He picked up his own coffee mug and drank. "Anyway, the bridge was still burning at that point, it would've blocked the view." Despite the fatigue, Emilia noticed a certain tension about him, in his hands and face. "And then the haze faded?"

"Yeah. And the bandits were scattering, and Nessiah was standing all by himself, still with those red lights. And he pulled out a sword and - stabbed himself. And then his body vanished." She took a sip. "Is that important? Would he still have to be alive to be able to disappear?"

Gulcasa's eyes had narrowed in thought. "It doesn't matter. He killed his own men, therefore betrayed the Empire. Though..." He stretched one shoulder. "It's a very inefficient way to betray us. Which isn't like Nessiah."

"To betray us?" Emilia laughed shortly.

"To do it halfway." Gulcasa gazed out the window, his expression still dark. "Never mind. It's probably for the best."

Emilia glanced up. Losing their strategist was good? But she recalled that one conversation she'd heard, about the ritual, and Nessiah thinking Gulcasa couldn't do it.

Her heart lightened. Perhaps with Nessiah gone, Gulcasa would abandon his dreams of Brongaa. Granted, she'd never known for sure Nessiah was behind them, but it seemed like something he'd do, the disgusting traitor.

Emilia sighed. Everything would be so much simpler if Gulcasa forgot about Brongaa.

"So what's the plan?" she asked. "We're going to defend Karona. Are we holding Yggdra hostage?"

"Part of the army will remain to defend Karona, but some of us have more important things to do." He glanced at Emilia. "I need someone who can move quickly over difficult terrain. You'll be coming to Lost Aries."

"Lost Aries? You - what? - _why_? You want to take this into the wasteland? Why would anyone fight over it?"

"This isn't about conquest." He cut off a yawn and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've heard of Galleon Prison?"

"The execution site? Yeah, it's cursed."

"That's just a simplified way of putting it. Thousands of years ago, it was a stronghold of the Dragon."

Emilia shivered. "So...you...?"

"I believe that will be the best place to summon him."

Emilia swallowed; it didn't help. "Why do you want to summon him?"

Anger flashed in Gulcasa's eyes, though he tried not to show it. "Because it's my birthright - my mother's legacy! Through Brongaa I can control this wayward land."

She gripped the mug harder. "Yeah, and who's controlling you?"

"Is that what you're afraid of?" He settled back against his pillows, but his shoulders were still tense. "I am no one's puppet, Emilia."

"But-"

"If I could not control Brongaa, I wouldn't be doing this. I-" He broke off, glancing to the side. "I would only relinquish my will if I thought all was lost. And with Brongaa under my command, that will never happen."

Emilia glared down into her cup, aware that he could see her anger, aware that it wasn't making a difference. That very realization made her angrier. "I don't see why you have to play around with this. It - it's - Argh!" She swung to her feet and paced to the door.

"Emilia-" Gulcasa had softened his tone, though there was still an edge to it "-do you trust me?"

She whirled around. "It's Brongaa I don't trust, and Nessiah, and-" She sighed heavily. "I don't care how many countries you rule, you can still be wrong about some things."

Gulcasa tightened his lips for a moment, then relaxed, half-smiled. "It's a sister's privilege to speak so to the emperor."

"It's her duty!" Emilia fired back. "Because you don't have anyone else to tell you these things." Mollified (though part of her knew she hadn't backed Gulcasa down from his plan), she crossed the room again and sat down on the edge of his bed. Well, if she couldn't stop him, she was going to watch him, every step of the way. To try to make sure he didn't do something idiotic - and when he did, and everything blew up in his face, to say _I told you so_.

"When are we leaving for Lost Aries?"

"In a few days. We all need our rest." He studied her arm. "You can still fight?"

"I'll be fine." She crossed her legs. "What about Yggdra? Is there going to be a ransom or what?"

"She's coming to Lost Aries as well."

Emilia frowned dubiously, remembering how their father had considered a match between Yggdra and Gulcasa. That was one way of controlling Fantasinia, but after everything that had happened, the Royal Army would never stand for it. Or was he going to milk her for information? Or was this just an almighty jab at their enemies?

Seeing her perplexity, Gulcasa continued. "Brongaa will require a sacrifice to welcome him."

Emilia bit her lip. Yggdra would have died anyway; the Fantasinian princess couldn't live. But a human sacrifice?

She'd think this through when she had the time.

And besides, it wasn't her decision to make.

"Okay. So who else is coming?"

"Leon, I think, also Zilva. I fully expect Karona to fall, and I want forces that can move quickly."

"So this fort's just a delaying measure. But..." She looked at him. "If Karona falls, haven't we just lost every gain we made in Fantasinia?"

He finished his coffee, eyes hooding slightly. "There are other ways to break a nation."

* * *

Only a few hours had passed before Gulcasa again summoned his sister. She jogged up the corridors, wondering why she didn't see Russell or Leon coming to speak with him as well. Had he only called for her?

Gulcasa, despite any pain it might cause him, was standing and walking around. A line of five men stood by his desk, in varying degrees of nervousness.

"Sister." He put his hand on her shoulder and guided her towards them. "What do you think of-"

She sprang away from all of them. "You said you wouldn't force me to get married!"

One of the men blushed red, and Gulcasa stopped just short of rolling his eyes. "Hear me out before accusing me." He gestured to the men. "These are five of my bravest and most skilled Dragoons. Which of them-" and here, he cast them a considering glance "-looks the most like me?"

"Oh." Emilia's heart rate slowed. "You want a body double?"

"Yes. He will command the defense of Karona."

Strongest Dragoons or not, Emilia didn't envy those men. Gulcasa's life was forfeit, several times over; Yggdra's force would show no mercy. She hoped they were volunteers, either expecting a high reward or generous compensation for their families. "Lemme see." She stepped closer to them. "You there, on the left, can I see your profile? Hm, no. The double's going to have a wig, right?"

"It's being dyed right now. It doesn't have to be a perfect resemblance, just near enough to be convincing in the heat of battle."

Emilia was about to ask if any of them could set themselves on fire while simultaneously destroying the rest of their unit - but forbore. "Okay, you there, in the middle. Say something. Try to sound like my brother."

"Uh..." The Dragoon glanced warily at Gulcasa, who was watching with no little interest. "Um..." Taking a long breath, he made his voice as deep as possible: "Go forward! My Dragon Cavalry! I am the emperor!"

Emilia winced and looked at Gulcasa. "Are they going to have to talk much?"

Gulcasa gave that Dragoon a stern look. "They should speak as little as possible."

Emilia tapped her chin, enjoying the idea of directing this. She thought all of these men could pass for her brother in a pinch, but if he really wanted to find the closest match... "Just keep it simple. Try saying - um - 'Are you ready?' or something like that."

"Are you ready?" Gulcasa repeated, raising his eyebrow. "When do I say that?"

"In battle. I've heard you. You sort of shout it right before you attack." She paused. "The enemy's usually not ready."

"Oh." Gulcasa stared into the distance. "I hadn't noticed. I suppose...one gets caught up in the moment." Blinking quickly, he returned to the task at hand. "Now then, one of you must pass for me. Who shall it be?"

Emilia pointed at the middle one. "Speak."

He gulped. "A-are you ready?"

She pointed to the one on the far right. He clenched his fists. "ARE YOU READY!"

Then the one next to him. "_Are_ you ready?"

And the one on the left. "Are y'all ready?"

And next to him: "ARYU - choke - REDDY?"

"Okay," Emilia said. "I pick the really loud one. The guy on the right."

"Excellent, Bruto," Gulcasa said. "You are all dismissed."

The four remaining Dragoons looked both relieved and ashamed at being rejected. Bruto looked purely triumphant.

* * *

They left the following night, Emilia and Zilva going ahead to make sure the Marduk resistance was nowhere in sight, Leon to guard the company's rear. Gulcasa and his personal Dragoon units rode at the column's head, protecting the carriage that held Yggdra's still-sleeping form.

Leon was already calling it "the coffin".


	23. Chapter 23

23.

Emilia raised her eyebrows at the guards, as if to say, _Who are you to question my curiosity?_ They didn't stop her as she approached the halted carriage, jumped onto its small step, and peered through the window. Yggdra, a pale shape in the darkness, stirred. According to the guards, she'd woken up occasionally, but hadn't spoken to anyone, not even to ask what had become of the Gran Centurio.

Now as Emilia watched, she lifted herself from the cushioned seat, staring back from behind her disheveled hair. Emilia opened the window. Yggdra swallowed, her voice scratched and tired. "Are you here to question me?"

"This is the first time you've spoken to anyone. Go me." Emilia thought a moment, then turned to a passing Dragoon. "Tell my brother the princess is awake." She turned back to Yggdra. "He's been wanting to talk to you."

Yggdra's eyes tensed, perhaps in a glare of anger, perhaps as though she were about to cry. "I will have no words with that coward."

"My brother isn't a coward," Emilia shot back. "And cold-shouldering won't make any difference."

Yggdra turned away, looking out the opposite window. There was still a crusted smear of blood down the side of her face. "I suppose it's easy to follow a maniac blindly, particularly when he's family."

Emilia's hands shook. "Stop being a martyr. Like _you_ haven't killed people in all this. Like _you_ wouldn't take Brother prisoner if you had the chance. Like your people don't follow _you_ blindly!"

Her head whipped around. "My comrades follow me because-"

"Because of what, Princess Yggdra? I'm curious to know why so many men have died in your name."

Yggdra shrank against the far window as Gulcasa approached. He gestured Emilia aside, then opened the carriage door and stepped back, as if inviting Yggdra to walk out and take some air.

For a moment, they could only hear Yggdra's breathing, then she spoke, her words growing steadier. "My men follow me because innocent blood has been spilled on Fantasinian soil."

"And do they enjoy watching you spill it?"

"Don't taunt me!" Yggdra's voice was strong with anger. "You invaded my homeland, you took my home, you murdered my parents!"

"If they deserved to live, they would have stopped me."

"What is _your_ grand quest, then? Unifying the world in - in blood? In carnage?" She laughed. "I've heard all men are unified in death. I fight only to free my people."

"A fine speech," Gulcasa said after a moment. "At least you thought _that_ over."

Yggdra seemed about to shout something back, then she bit her lip, trying to compose herself. "And now you've taken me prisoner. Are you going to bring my people to their knees?"

"Rest assured, you will only be indirectly involved." Gulcasa smiled. Emilia tried to keep her face impassive, thinking of Galleon Prison. "Leave the princess to her rest," Gulcasa bade the guards. "She seems...overexcited."

Yggdra bared her teeth, something Emilia thought she was hardly capable of.

"Are you going to tell her?" Emilia asked as she and Gulcasa walked away from the carriage. "If she's going to die, she should have a chance to prepare herself."

"I'm sure she already expects to die," Gulcasa replied, not looking down. "That she and the Gran Centurio will both be chained to the Iron Cross should make little difference."

"Do you...think the ritual will work?" Emilia left it at that, not wanting to bring up Nessiah's warning, that Gulcasa was too weak.

"It will be a matter of mastering Brongaa's will. I can do that."

Perhaps it was a sister's prerogative to correct her brother, but glancing at his face, Emilia couldn't bring herself to.

They had come to the picket where Gulcasa's dragon stood apart from the others, tearing into a side of raw beef. Emilia ignored the blood and stroked Majunga's flank, the dragonhide always soothingly warm. Gulcasa's inspection of the dragon was less affectionate, checking for any injuries or signs of weakness. He paused a moment over a shallow gash in Majunga's side, then patted the dragon. "If he lives through this war, I'll retire Majunga. He deserves it."

Emilia scratched the dragon's scales, some of which were more feather-like than scale-like. "Will it be over soon?"

"As soon as I can get to Brongaa."

Emilia's heart sank, and she turned away, scratching Majunga with both hands. It always came back to Brongaa.

Gulcasa scratched behind Majunga's frontal horn, then straightened. "Now then. I have orders for you." Emilia looked up. "I've received word that Karona has fallen. The Royals will be fast on our heels. Our mercenaries were routed, no great loss, but Russell and his entire unit have defected."

"I knew he'd snap."

"Actually...no. The Royals managed to sneak inside and free Russell's fiancée during the battle."

"Two Dragon Generals down," Emilia muttered. "Well, you still have three of us, and I think we're the three best!"

"Yes." Gulcasa frowned, perhaps thinking of his thinning forces. "Russell certainly had his uses, and as for Nessiah..." His frown became distasteful. "I was becoming too reliant on his stratagems. Anyway," he said after a moment, "your orders. There's a good chance the Royal Army will assimilate the Marduk resistance, adding both numbers and zeal to their force. I want to stop them before they enter Lost Aries."

"Then you'll want to fight them at the Valley of Lament." Emilia thought back to the entrance of Lost Aries, which she'd seen only a few days ago. Rugged, walled by sheer cliffs, it was a natural defense against invaders. "You left a token guard there."

"Token guard is another way of saying 'bait' right now. While the bait lures them into the valley, you, Leon and Zilva will be waiting to welcome them." Emilia listened silently as he detailed the strategy, then had her repeat it, to be sure she understood. When she was done, he tipped his head to the side, looking down at her.

"What?" Emilia knew her tone was defensive.

"You don't seem altogether satisfied with my plans, but you're still following me."

Emilia tried to cross her arm - her good arm clunked against her splint. "It's because I trust you."

Gulcasa didn't answer at first, as though weighing her words. Emilia was weighing them herself. Of course she trusted Gulcasa... No, she didn't. She didn't trust him to stay away from Brongaa, she didn't trust him to stay safe. Which was why she felt she had to watch him.

Emilia knew Gulcasa hated to be controlled. Was she trying to control his actions? Was that his reason for sending her away? She looked quickly up, explanations tangled in her mind.

"Take care of your arm," Gulcasa said, then turned away.

Emilia spluttered. "You - what - that was - I AM taking care of my arm, you bran loaf!" She stamped her foot. "You better not get killed when I'm not there to see it!" Several of the Dragoons were watching her (even Majunga was watching her), and she stuck her tongue out at them.

* * *

Emilia shivered. It was still summer, but the day was overcast, and what little sunlight there was didn't reach her cave. The cliffs of the Valley of Lament were pigeon-holed with dozens of small caves, ancient tombs from when Aries had been a great nation. Now the eastern cliffs hid Emilia and her griffon riders, the western cliffs holding Zilva's archers. The Black Cavalry waited far back in the valley, out of sight of the small force that even then was engaging the Royals.

Emilia trembled with nerves for a moment, watching as the Royals broke through, still looking around, gauging the terrain. When they'd come halfway down the valley, Emilia launched from the cave mouth, followed by her riders.

They dove swiftly, hitting as hard as they could before pulling up. That - that archer was with them, Emilia realized as a flurry of arrows rose to meet them. She pressed herself close to Twit, shooting up out of arrow range. Four of her riders tumbled to the ground, their griffons badly wounded. Below, the Royals were regrouping, waiting for the next dive.

Which didn't come. As the Scarlet Riders rose higher into the air, above the level of the cliffs, Zilva's archers attacked. As the arrows stormed down on the Royals, several units ran for the far end of the ravine, out of Zilva's range.

Right into Leon.

Emilia watched as the Third Cavalry rode forward to take the brunt of Leon's attacks. Emilia made several sweeps over the Valley, looking for an opening, some place she could attack out of the archers' range. Zilva's assassins were working quickly, but single arrows couldn't bring down an army.

"General Emilia! Over there!"

Emilia glanced in the direction of the shout. In the distance, she could see a dark, blurred shape against the clouds, quickly growing larger. Another flight.

She'd destroyed the Royal Aerial Force, and while this could be one of her own units, it was coming from the north-northwest, the wrong direction either for Gulcasa's camp or Flarewerk.

_Well, this makes it interesting. Are they with Yggdra or just raiders? _ The Scarlet Riders shifted into a loose wedge, an attack formation, and charged. She wouldn't give the rival unit any time to chose their own defense.

She only had time to notice that the riders wore no uniforms before the griffons were on each other. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her riders tumbling to the ground, having been ripped from her saddle. She fought harder.

"Yah! Aren't you a little young for this?"

Emilia wheeled Twit around to face the taunt, meeting an older girl with a wildly festooned griffon. The girl smiled, her orange eyes bright, then swept towards her with a furious assault. The griffons hung onto each other a long moment, digging their claws into each other's stomachs; Twit had latched onto the other's throat. Before the girl pulled away, she smacked her mace against Twit, its spikes puncturing her shoulder. Then she was backwinging, her griffon saved by the thick feathers at his throat. Wait, _his?_ A male griffon with wings?

_Her griffon must come from Lost Aries. Then she - who is she?_

No time to wonder, the riders were withdrawing, both sides having sustained heavy injuries. As they flew for the safety of the caves, Emilia buried her hand in Twit's feathers. "I know it hurts. I'll look at it soon as I can."

Aside from those who fell, two more of the griffons had been hurt so badly they couldn't fly, but other riders had managed to support them, half-bearing them into the caves. Emilia allowed the severely wounded to lie down and two more of the riders to attend to them, but the rest of the unit remained mounted, wounds or not. They might still be needed.

Mindful of her wounds, Emilia gently legged Twit to the edge of her cave, studying the battle far below. Now that Leon and the Royals were fully engaged, Zilva held off with her arrows, not wanting to shoot her ally. Despite facing the full force of the Royal Army, the Black Cavalry was holding its ground, cutting away at the enemy. Emilia heard battle horns, the call for retreat.

The remainder of the Scarlet Riders swept down the Valley, faster than anything on the ground, taking up position at the mouth of the Valley. "You aren't going anywhere!" she shouted, not caring if they could hear her. Their archers spent, the Royals halted their retreat, trapped.

So fast she wasn't sure of it, Emilia saw a slip of light dart into the battle. In another moment, magic shimmered through the air - an ice spell. Reflexively, requiring no orders, the griffons surged upwards, out of range. As soon as the sparkling white haze lifted, Emilia swept back down again, trying to close the Valley again.

But none of the Royals were breaking for the Valley mouth. They were pushing up the Valley, towards Leon. What had happened? She gained altitude. Leon's line was breaking, the Royals pushing through - how?

The Black Cavalry tried to delay the Royals as they retreated, but they themselves were making for the center of the Valley, the cover of Zilva's archers. Emilia glanced at the assassins' position. Most of them remained hidden, but one unit was running along the cliff edge, heading northeast.

* * *

Leon, jaw bleeding, was swearing an indigo streak when she found him. "Useless idiots!" And he hit one of his senior captains across the face, his articulated gauntlet gouging the skin. "There was no reason to falter! If you think I could be taken down by a paltry scratch, you deserve to die!"

"What happened?" Emilia glanced around, looking for someone helpful. Leon whirled on her, teeth bared, his eyes animal. Emilia lifted off, flying to Zilva's unit at the clifftop. The Head Assassin paced, her movements quick, her face blank. "What's with Leon? Why'd his cavalry fall apart?"

Zilva's voice was never expressive, but even now, she spoke with the flatness usually reserved for official reports. "We have been betrayed. One of my women shot him." Zilva paused and her mouth tightened, as though, for a moment, emotion was about to break through. "She intended to kill, but her arrow only clipped his face."

Panic from a minor wound. No wonder Leon was enraged. "Who did it?" She could imagine a lot of people who'd want Leon dead.

Zilva turned away. "His sister, Elena. I will deal with her."

Emilia barely heard the second part, her heart in her throat. His sister? His sister had tried to kill him? Her own family?

_You don't seem altogether satisfied with my plans, but you're still following me._

Emilia's right hand, resting on her saddle, was shaking slightly. "She - you'd better deal with her. Betraying the Empire's one thing, but betraying your-"

She wouldn't betray Gulcasa, no matter what he did. Never.

She _wouldn't._

She balled her hand into a tight fist, and even then wasn't sure.


	24. Chapter 24

24.

Though she was supposed to be scouting ahead, Emilia kept glancing back. Reluctantly, she'd divided her unit, taking the stronger fighters with her, leaving the wounded to continue at a slower pace. No one had questioned her - it was the way of an army. But she hated doing it, and if she hadn't been a general, she would've broken ranks and ridden back to protect them.

_I am a general,_ she told herself. _I can do whatever I want. I can go back._

_But I'm a general, so I have to lead my riders._

She shook her head, the wind whipping through her hair and across her skin, her thoughts jumping from the battle to Elena's treachery to Brongaa to the necessity of reaching Fort Baldoc. Only there, behind stone walls and under a firm roof, would she be able to rest her riders, have everyone's wounds seen to.

She turned her eyes down to the wasteland, Twit's silhouette rippling over rocks and brown scrub, the deep gouge marks in the earth, gashes from the Great Sorcery War. Would Gulcasa's conquest leave such wounds?

Emilia upbraided herself, driving her thoughts down another course, flying a shade faster. She wasn't the only one who needed to retreat. Leon also was falling back, beyond the Gates of Atonement if he could. Zilva had vanished, presumably hunting Elena down.

Emilia sighed, glancing over her shoulder to see if the other riders had caught up.

* * *

"You'll just have to suck it up." Emilia checked the plaster on Twit's shoulder. "Both of us." And, chewing on some of the last remnants of Mother Paltina's herbs, she walked among her riders. She'd have this splint off soon.

She made her rounds through Fort Baldoc, mentally tallying who was in the best condition, keeping up with their progress as the days passed. After a week, she opened the Gates to the Black Cavalry as they rode through, Leon not pausing to reconnoiter. She watched him at the head of his unit, his mouth firm and unhappy, a dry red scrape across his jaw.

By then, most of her women were in fighting shape, though their wounds were by no means entirely healed. Emilia kept a constant watch for the Royals, often patrolling at the fort's gates, the Gates of Atonement. Given Lost Aries' chaotic terrain, they might miss Baldoc entirely.

* * *

_I suppose it's easy to follow a maniac blindly, particularly when he's family._

Emilia knew she was half awake, but she couldn't remember what she was dreaming, didn't know why she'd woken up with those words in her head. She stretched her left arm, pain shooting through her joints, but at least she could move it now, could forget the splint.

Uncharacteristically, she lay in bed a long moment before getting up, trying to weave her scattered thoughts into something useful.

* * *

After checking Twit's shoulder, Emilia vaulted astride the griffon, her left arm aching as it temporarily took her weight. She was just strapping up when one of her patrols landed. "What?" she asked before the messenger could even say her name.

"A small unit of assassins is approaching the fort. It's keeping hidden along the ridge, and I don't think it knows we've seen it."

Emilia drummed her nails on her saddle. "It's that Elena, I bet." _No, I'm not getting upset. No. Nope._ "Well, we're not going to let traitors through." She thought quickly, considering the surrounding terrain. Elena had archers, so the Scarlet Riders would have to surprise her. She'd soon leave the protection of the ridge, be vulnerable in the flatland, unless she tried to dive down a crevasse. Serve her right if she did.

"There's more."

Emilia's head snapped up. "Why didn't you say so before? It's the Royals, right?" They'd been watching their progress for the last day.

"Yes. They're within a few hours' march."

"Damn." _They weren't supposed to make it this far. We don't have enough people to defend the Gates._ "Well - okay, we're going to have to abandon the fort." The messenger's face didn't change at this admission of weakness. "But we're going to whack Elena, then join up with Leon." She reined Twit around. "Let's get my captains here."

* * *

None of them were accustomed to flying this low to the ground, nor the way it made travel slower. Her eyes on the ridge, Emilia squinted against the dust clouds stirred by the wind, not envying the riders flying behind her. The ragged ridge line was growing closer. Elena would still be there. She had surely seen the Scarlet Riders launch from the Gates of Atonement and fly east, as if to meet with Leon. But once behind the cover of the ridge, the riders had angled their flight southwest, flying back, hidden by the wall of stones.

Emilia's nerves were tight, the blood prickling her cheeks. This would be a short battle. She'd have time for only one dive before Elena's assassins could unload their arrows into the griffons.

Emilia found that she'd been working her lower lip in her teeth. She leaned forward, trying to concentrate. She'd get Elena - she had to. Otherwise -

Otherwise what? If she let Elena live, did that mean that she, Emilia, would betray her own brother?

_Stop being so stupid! You aren't going to betray anyone. Gulcasa's always been right, and - In a couple years, you'll laugh at how idiotic you're being now! The world belongs to the strong. Brongaa is just part of Gulcasa's strength._

_And if Elena doesn't understand simple things like loyalty, she deserves to die._

They soared over the edge of the ridge, turning so hard several griffons flew sideways, stooping right into Elena's unit. The assassins had only seen them at the last moment, and though many unshouldered their crossbows, they were too late to load.

"Traitor!" Emilia shouted as she swung her mace at Elena, recognizing her by her hair. The assassin spun, dodging, a spike dragging through her unprotected arm. She in turn lunged at Emilia with her claw, raking the hooked fingers swiftly down Emilia's side. Emilia had no leisure to feel anything but the heat of her own blood as she surged through the air, racing out of arrow range.

She hovered several hundred feet in the air, her riders - all had survived - around her. She could see that the assassins had quickly regrouped, their crossbows raised. There would be no second dive. Cautiously, she touched her wounded side, feeling nothing more than a haze of pain; it seemed more bloody than debilitating.

And, from here, she could see the smoke from the approaching Royal Army. Emilia gauged her options with the swiftness she'd learned from past battles. She'd had her riders take all the equipment they could carry, and though they were in the best shape they'd been in for weeks, they were no match for an entire army.

She turned her riders east. Though she was abandoning a stronghold, she flew with a relatively light heart. Several of her riders had taken time to strew the griffons' refuse across the fort's main hall.

* * *

Leon, even without the Royal Army marching to meet him, wasn't in a mood to exchange pleasantries. Emilia could see as much when her unit landed in his camp, Leon was called for, and he approached her with, "Get your goddamned buzzards out of here. I don't have time to deal with your shit." His cut was entirely healed, but he was no less angry.

"Your sister-" Emilia spat the word, and happily "-is on her way, unless the Royals took her out."

Leon hesitated, eyes narrowed, then snorted. "I don't have time for her whining. She knows what she'll get if she comes."

Emilia could guess as well. _Gulcasa wouldn't kill me if I betrayed him. I'm not betraying him! Brongaa is not that important._

_Crud, is Brother at Galleon Prison yet?_

_Stop. It's not something you need to worry about._

"Shove off, Emilia." Leon turned. "Your unit isn't big enough to help, and I don't keep freeloaders."

Emilia glared. She could have used her status as princess to her advantage - a princess outranked a general. But in the field, at war, she was supposed to be a general first, and as such, Leon was her equal.

"Fine," she tossed back. "But you're going to regret that." Turning back to her riders, she saw that most of them were poised to launch. She smiled. "We can hold off for a few hours, rest and resupply. Leon won't think of us again for a while."

* * *

She left one rider with Leon's company, to serve as a link in the chain of messengers between herself and Gulcasa. She thought of returning to him (she wanted to - talk him out of - No, there was no reason she had to talk him out of anything, she was a loyal sister), but that would only separate the two halves of her unit further. It was time to fly west and reunite with what remained of her wounded riders. If Gulcasa needed her, he'd send for her. She felt she owed her riders this. And Gulcasa would be fine on his own.

* * *

Lost Aries was empty of cities, and even small villages were rare. Emilia found her wounded recouping in the ruins of an ancient temple, grateful for the protection afforded by the other riders. Several griffons had died, and one woman had abandoned the others, but the remainder were healing well, though still not ready to fly. Emilia sent a rider to relay her location to Gulcasa, then resigned herself to waiting, watching day by day as the cuts along her side healed. Her arm was still stiff, and if she held something too long, it ached painfully.

It wasn't long before she met with the rider she'd left in Leon's camp, but she did not bring news from Gulcasa.

"Crap, really?"

"Yes, milady. I saw it myself."

Emilia sat down on a fallen column, unsure how to feel. She shouldn't rejoice at an ally's death - she wasn't rejoicing, not exactly. But she wasn't particularly sad.

But then she realized the seriousness of the news. _With Leon dead and the Black Cavalry severely damaged...we're down to two Dragon Generals. Baldus and me. The old geezer and the fourteen year old kid_. She rubbed her forehead, finding it hard to believe that she'd outlived Leon on the field of battle. "How'd he die?" she asked after a moment.

"By his sister's hand," the messenger said. "She shot him through the heart."

Emilia crossed her arms tightly, despite her aching bones.

* * *

Emilia woke shivering. She instinctively reached for her blanket - but it was still draped over her shoulder. She glanced up at the starlit night sky, the white beacon of the north star. Below it was the Tree constellation. And looping to the east, the long constellation that some people called the Whip and others still called the Dragon.

* * *

She'd received regular, if bland, reports from Gulcasa on his progress east. In his last report, he'd almost reached Galleon Prison, and Emilia found herself waiting daily for news - Yggdra's death, Brongaa's awakening. She even found herself flying high, looking east, as if Brongaa's advent would announce itself in a massive explosion, a shaft of light, the stars rearranging themselves - anything.

She was doing this, impatient, when she spotted a messenger. She flew towards her, recognizing her contact from Gulcasa's camp. She signaled for them to land apart from the ruins. They came to rest on the rubble that had once been the temple's wall.

"General Emilia, His Imperial Highness bids you remove your division to Fort Ishnad and there await his orders."

"What happened? I don't care if he told you not to tell me anything, what did you see?"

The messenger hesitated. "Princess Yggdra has been rescued by the Royal Army. His Imperial Highness was unable to reclaim her."

"And the-" Emilia cut herself off. Common soldiers didn't know about the ritual. "Did anything else - unusual - happen?"

"Captain Aegina was wounded critically. I do not know how or by whom, because the Emperor sent me quickly with his orders."

_So Aegina might be out of action too. How are we going to hold this together?_ Emilia squared her shoulders, hoping the dismay didn't show on her face. "Is that all? Thanks."

* * *

Hers was the swiftest unit in the Imperial Army, so Emilia found herself in the unenviable position of waiting for everyone else. Baldus and Eudy had fallen back to Ishnad after the fall of Karona, but they knew even less than she did.

Baldus frowned somberly at the news of Leon's death. "He was a spitfire, but he had his uses."

"He wasn't very good company," Eudy said complacently.

Luciana had thoughts only for her sister, her face pale with anger. "I'll kill the bastard who did it."

_The messenger didn't say anything else unusual happened,_ Emilia thought to herself as she paced along Ishnad's ramparts, the wind in her hair. _So that means the ritual didn't go off? Did he change his mind? Was he too weak? Or maybe it did, but nothing noticeable happened? But wait, if Gulcasa had Brongaa, then he probably wouldn't have fallen back. Unless he did anyway._

_I should've been there.

* * *

_

When he rode under Ishnad's gates, the emperor's back was straight, his chin was high, but the princess could tell that something was wrong. The posture was too self-conscious, too poised. She held her tongue as Gulcasa greeted his remaining commanders, still under the garrison's eye (many of the civilians from Ish, the town within Fort Ishnad, had also come to cheer him, despite the soberness of the retreat).

She even held back her yapping inquiries as Gulcasa took his commanders aside to review the state of his army, its remaining branches.

Luciana had no such hesitation, coming close to grabbing his arm. "Please, Your Highness - Aegina - is she-"

Gulcasa offered her a flat smile. "Aegina is in no danger."

"What happened? Can I see her?"

"She was sniped by Leon's wayward sister. The arrow took out her right eye, but it did not penetrate anywhere near the brain. She is resting and quite eager to share in your anger."

Luciana caught her lower lip in her teeth, then her shoulders slumped in relief. She wordlessly bowed her head to him and stepped back.

When Gulcasa dismissed his commanders, Emilia put her hands on her hips and didn't move. Gulcasa stared at her, drumming his fingers against his desk for a moment, as if hoping to out-wait her. Then he straightened, went to the door, and closed it.

Emilia studied his face. It looked drawn, a faint line of blood still on his cheek. Maybe he only got it shaving this morning. "So the ritual didn't..."

"It was interrupted," Gulcasa clipped. He turned and paced to the window, his back to her. "It would have gone faster if-" Emilia watched his faint reflection in his helmet, resting on the desk.

"What?" she asked quietly.

"Brongaa's will is not easily mastered," he said after a moment.

_Maybe that's not how the ritual works, _she thought. _Maybe Brongaa wants to be in charge._ "So...with Yggdra gone, can you not do it again?" Did she sound as hopeful as she felt?

"Galleon Prison was the wrong choice to begin with," he said tightly. "I will raise Brongaa at the Obsidian Castle." He turned to face her. "It is his tomb as well as our family's."

Emilia slowly nodded, trying to take in the fact that the Dragon of Purgatory had been her house mate. And that Gulcasa seemed far from finished with him. "So we're going home." What did that mean? They no longer held Yggdra, were entirely out of Fantasinian territory. Did that mean the war was over?

Hah. Right.

"No, you will remain in Ishnad for the time being. I want a strong presence on the border while I plan my next move."

"What about you?"

"My troops need rest. I'll be commanding from here."

Yggdra would most likely attack them. Emilia remembered her words from the carriage -_ I fight only to free my people._ Sure. Her people were free, but she'd take the first chance of hurting Bronquia she could get.

Of course, Gulcasa hadn't exactly called a ceasefire.

If Yggdra was so committed to stopping the bloodshed, she should surrender. That would end the war.


	25. Chapter 25

25.

_If I ever find Mother Paltina, I am turning her into gumbo. _Painstakingly, Emilia bent her left arm once, twice, as many times as she needed before her joints stopped smarting, replaced instead by a slow ache. Even with the last week of rest, comfortable in Ishnad with no urgent threat from the Royals, it didn't seem any better.

_I'm getting as bad as Gulcasa._

She glanced up at herself, in the small, smeared mirror in her room, then shook her head very firmly, as if that could erase the thought. She straightened her dress, tied her hair band snugly in place (a year ago, Valena had been doing that), then stepped into her boots. Her brother had told her to come to his study first thing in the morning, and there was no sense in putting it off.

She leaned towards the mirror, fanning out one of her lace hairties. Then left her room.

Gulcasa was seated at his desk, closely examining the wood's fine veneer. No, Emilia realized after a moment, he was unconscious, slumped over the desk. Or dead.

She ran, and halfway across the room, he started up, hair in his face.

Emilia skidded to a stop. "What-"

Gulcasa groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "The hell?" He blinked, as if realizing where he was.

"You fell asleep at your desk?" Emilia tried to hitch her mouth into a smile, to think of this as a joke. "That must've been some fascinating paperwork."

He raised his eyes to her, and she noticed how raw their edges were. It was not an affectionate look.

Emilia clasped her hands behind her. "Sorry."

Gulcasa didn't reply to that, merely leaning back in his chair. Emilia walked to his side of the desk. His long hair, the same pure red as her own, as their father's, was tangled. "I will be leaving Ishnad soon," he said, his voice scratchy at first. "From what I guess, Yggdra will soon seek her crown, and I must stop her at all costs."

"Why? Is it...do you believe the legends about the Holy Sword and the tiara?" According to tradition, the gods guided those who bore the insignias of Fantasinia's royal house.

"Six months ago, I didn't. But I'm..." He stared at his hand on the desk. "I'm learning new respect for the old lore."

"_Justice lies with the Holy Sword_," Emilia quoted. "But - isn't that just the same as the Bronquian code? The Fantasinians have the sword, so that gives them the excuse to kill anyone in the name of justice?" Something flitted in the back of her brain - What, then, did the Bronquian code mean? - but she had no time to examine it.

"Telling Yggdra that would make no difference. According to my spies, her army is mobilizing itself, sending scouts to the south. She's heading for the Holy Land. We must not let her go unescorted." Emilia crossed her arms and looked critically at him. If he noticed, he didn't bring it up. "Zilva's been traveling for a week already, but has had nothing special to report. The theocrats are wallowing in their own trouble, as usual."

"And you've been helping?"

Gulcasa glanced up, and a slight smile touched his lips. "Anything that will stymie Yggdra's movements is a gain. Including holy war among religious sects."

She had no arguments to that. "Okay, so Zilva's down there, getting info and stirring up trouble." Zilva would probably enjoy that. Emilia hadn't seen Zilva since Elena's betrayal, but she imagined the assassin probably wanted a big thorough project to vent her anger through. In Zilva's position, Emilia would. "What about you?"

"I expect to leave within the next two days. In case the Royals wish to draw our attention away from Yggdra, Baldus and Eudy will hold Ishnad. Aegina still needs to recover, but Luciana will come with me."

"Good luck. She won't want to leave Aegina."

"I'm due to talk to her. I think I have the right incentive."

"Okay, this is wonderful," Emilia said. "I know what everyone but me is doing."

"You will also be coming to the Holy Land."

"Eyes of the Imperial Army, huh?"

"Yes, that. And...if fate is favorable, kidnapper extraordinaire."

Emilia lost her complacency. "What? Me? Isn't that more Zilva's line of work?"

"Zilva may beat you to it. But I need someone who can move a captive quickly, and for that, you are my best."

Emilia couldn't help glowing a bit at that, even if it did come from a brother who had once threatened her with a dead bear. "So, who am I nabbing?"

"The pope."

Emilia's smile twitched, then faltered. "The pope?"

"Without a pope, Yggdra cannot be legitimately crowned."

"Really? That's inefficient." Emilia looked at her shoes, thinking. "So I'll be heading for Saint Meriata's then."

"No. I understand from Zilva that he's gone into hiding." Gulcasa looked up as there was a knock at the door. He made a cursory attempt to smooth his hair. "Enter." Now was the usual time for someone to bring him a tray of breakfast.

Luciana stepped in and immediately genuflected, then rose and shut the door. She didn't approach Gulcasa, her mouth set in a thin line. The emperor studied her a moment, then inclined his head, inviting her to speak first.

Luciana's voice began evenly, but it swiftly built with emotion. "Your Imperial Highness, I respectfully beg permission to remain with my sister right now. I will be happy to slaughter anyone who threatens our borders, but Aegina's in a great deal of pain, and that nurse isn't going to take care of her, so please let me stay and watch over her." At the end, she grimaced, as if realizing how desperate she sounded, then masked her emotions and stood straight.

Gulcasa paused a moment. Emilia knew he wouldn't change his strategy, but this gave the illusion that he was considering Luciana's plea. And maybe he was trying to find a gentler way to refuse.

"Has Aegina's nurse been negligent? What specifically have you seen?"

Luciana winced. "Forgive me, Emperor. I - I spoke hastily." Though she didn't know them well, Emilia knew the twins trusted hardly anyone beyond each other. And Gulcasa.

"I know you aren't happy to be leaving your sister, but she is in good hands," Gulcasa said after a moment. "And Luciana, you will be able to devastate our enemies in the south."

"What do you mean? Your Imperial Highness," she added, still abashed.

"Your youngest sister is, at this moment, planning to pursue her crown."

Luciana's lips tightened again, but this time it was with anger.

"The coronation must take place at Nacht Altar, in the Holy Land. Which only the pope and the Fantasinian heir apparent may enter. You are Ordene's firstborn; the birthright is truly yours."

Luciana took a step towards him, eyes wide with shock, then sank back into a genuflect. "You - I-"

"I would not begrudge Fantasinia its queen if she were my vassal, a vassal who has constantly proved her loyalty." He regarded her. "Luciana Rune Artwaltz, will you come with me to the south?" She stood, looking almost as radiant as though he'd asked her to be his empress, and saluted, her fist to her left shoulder. "Prepare yourself, we will not be lingering in Ishnad."

When they were alone again, Emilia looked sharply at her brother. "Do we have to leave this soon?"

"Yes." He stood, his movements stiff. "What's keeping breakfast?"

"Don't you think-" She broke off, uncertain how to proceed.

"Don't I think what?" The tension was back in his voice.

Emilia took a deep breath. "Ever since Galleon Prison, you've been weaker." He turned angrily to her. "I mean, you're not as healthy. Something happened there, didn't it?" She tried to stop her own anger from building, but wasn't wholly successful. "Something with the ritual. You got hurt, didn't you?"

He brought his hand lightly down on the desk, but it was enough to stop her. "Emilia, when you began training as a rider, was it easy? Was it comfortable? Weren't you bruised, and sore, and often bandaged? Aren't you still?"

"But-" Now she was the one pleading, and he didn't even pretend to think her words over.

"Are you with me or not?"

"I - ARGH!" Emilia stamped both feet then kicked over his chair. Then stood for a moment, breathing hard. "Don't think," she said after a moment, her voice with forced calmness, "that just because I'm worried, I'm somehow against you."

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Forgive me, Emilia."

Emilia punched his arm. "Look, you just need to sleep more regularly, okay? Don't go to pieces. Because - I just - Gulcasa, if you keep doing this, you're going to fall apart!"

There was knock at the door. "Enter," Gulcasa said flatly.

One of the minor Dragoons hurried in with a wide tray, set it on the desk, bowed, and scuttled out the door. Gulcasa lifted the lid: half a loaf of walnut bread, fresh butter, honey, bacon, oatmeal, three eggs, two small oranges and an entire pot of coffee.

"Holy cow," Emilia said. "Why do _you_ get all the special treatment?"

He looked sidelong at her, still weary. "Stick around, we'll have some breakfast."

Emilia gave him a wary look. "I don't want to talk about Brongaa. It just-" _It just makes everything worse._

"We won't," Gulcasa promised, slicing her some walnut bread.

* * *

Sand got into everything. Her eyes. Her hair. Her clothes. Even her shoes, somehow. Into Twit, Twit's feathers, Twit's claws. Every evening, Emilia found Twit teary from irritated eyes. She ate her camp rations (mostly very tough jerky), spitting sand out occasionally, often just giving up and eating it with the food. In the past two weeks, there hardly seemed to have been a single moment when she wasn't waiting. Sometimes she was only waiting for word from Gulcasa, his progress through Nyllard Desert being much slower. Sometimes, when she'd gotten wind of a rumor of the pope's whereabouts, she was waiting outside of a village, hiding her riders as well as possible behind sand dunes and the mercilessly wind-carved stone formations. But if Pope Joachim showed himself, she never had the luck of recognizing him.

Most often, she was waiting for reports from Zilva, tidbits on the pope's location. Emilia passed the waits in planning how exactly she'd dive towards the fleeing pontiff. (How fast would His Holiness run, given the combination of deep sand dunes and very long robes? How should she grab him? The back of his shirt? Might break his neck. His arm? She wasn't sure if she'd be able to swing him up. Best to go for the belt, hoist him up that way.)

She saw plenty of the Royal Army - first the wreckage of their battle at the desert's mouth, then further south where they fought bandits at one of the many merchant towns. She didn't care if they saw her. She was racing them to find Joachim Lia Blaucent.

There was no way an ancient geezer would be able to outrun a griffon. Not without a miracle.

Granted, he was a holy man...

Emilia legged Twit faster, sweeping over the desert, its oases, its small towns, looking for any signs of suspicious activities.

* * *

Then Emilia began to stalk the Royal Army.

Zilva's women were always able to find her, and since she, high in the air, couldn't scour for clues, she decided she might as well follow a very obvious target. Yggdra was also looking for the pope; even if the princess found him first, Emilia could move faster than anyone in Yggdra's army. That was the benefit of having killed all of Fantasinia's riders. Therefore, even if Yggdra found the pope, Emilia would be the first to catch him. But, so far, it hadn't happened. As far as Emilia could tell, Yggdra was up to her usual business, taking the least efficient routes and getting mixed up in other people's problems.

Emilia was making sweeps one glorious sunset, keeping her eye on the battle raging on the sand. Zilva had infiltrated some religious group (Emilia couldn't keep them straight), and Yggdra had gotten in with some other group (glancing at their flags, Emilia thought they were affiliated with the pope), and they were launching into each other.

The Scarlet Riders rested through the night, and as they lofted into the air the next morning, Emilia saw that Zilva and her sect had withdrawn. Much of the Royal Army was guarding the town. Emilia glanced, looking for the rest of the units. Frowning, she saw that a northern road had been recently churned up, as if by many travelers.

She turned their course north.

They quickly caught up with army, overtaking most of it. But, three miles up the road, were more units, hurrying. Emilia scanned ahead. She saw the glitter of water, a long stone bridge - a small island. It was bare of trees, but there was a ruined village, dominated by a half-fallen cathedral.

She easily outstripped the Royal Army, making no secret of her passing. She only pulled up once they'd flown over the bridge, hovering at the cathedral's tumbled spire. "Okay, everyone," she said, out of breath. "We have a pope to find."

"Should we dismount?" one rider asked.

Emilia's confidence faltered, and she glanced back at the land. The Royals wouldn't stand aside as she searched, and while the Scarlet Riders could look more thoroughly on the ground, they'd be almost defenseless. "No, we're staying up here. Stay in fours and check as much as you can!"

Emilia grew more nervous the longer she stayed on the island, knowing the Royals were approaching, knowing the pope could easily hide in places she couldn't see from her griffon. She needed Zilva, but no, Zilva had gone and gotten pummeled just yesterday. Crap, what good was the Scarlet Princess if she couldn't bring home a half-dead priest?

She lifted higher into the air, hoping to get a panoramic view of the island, to see if she could spot a tiny figure scurrying to a new hiding spot, preferably tripping over his cassock.

"General!" one of the riders screamed.

Emilia went into a roll, dropping altitude, righting herself in time to see two of her small squadron fall lifelessly through the air. Above them, a full cadre of griffon riders swung around, readying for another charge.

Emilia and her remaining rider fled in opposite directions, heading for the ruins. Emilia could hear her pursuit - shouts, the griffons shrieking - and she made for the buildings, darting through the narrow spaces between them, under what had once been a wildly carved archway. She shifted sideways, sweeping between two houses - and was met on the other side by an enemy rider, a girl with long green hair who was somehow familiar. Emilia shot upwards, into the waiting wings of another enemy. She grit her teeth and kept going.

The two griffons collided, and somehow Twit kept rising, blood flying from her beak, the other griffon slumping to one of the ruined roofs. More riders approached - but these were her own, the separate squadrons unifying into a defensive crescent. Emilia quickly counted them - about a fourth were missing. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that the enemy riders were gathering themselves, preparing for a charge. And the Royals were coming.

She signaled the retreat, hurrying to the west. She'd saved most of her riders' lives, but they flew with the laughter of their enemies behind them.

* * *

"Princess Yggdra found the pope. He was in a ruined cathedral on a deserted island," Zilva's messenger told her. Emilia broke her stick of turkey jerky in two.


	26. Chapter 26

26.

Kerissa Island was close enough to the coast that Emilia could see the dim shadow of the mainland, but far enough away from the pope's hideaway - as people called that _other_ fateful island - that she didn't gain a frustration headache if she happened to glance in its direction.

Since her battle to kidnap the pope, Emilia had relocated to the abandoned island, and Gulcasa permitted her to rest and rendezvous with the reserve troops she'd decided to send for. In the brief moments when she wasn't wanted, she sat on the beach, Twit lolling in the sun despite her saddle (Emilia wanted to be ready), and drew maps, figuring out everyone's locations. From the messages she got, she could tell that Gulcasa was fast closing in on Yggdra, and though she'd connected with the pope, he might still thwart her before she reached Nacht Altar.

It wasn't as though Emilia didn't already have a map. She had two, one taken from Flarewerk, another taken from Paltina for comparison's sake. But she preferred drawing the contours herself; it made her feel closer to the action.

Her reserve riders arrived on the fifth day of her wait, and as she allowed them at least a day to rest, the sixth day found her waiting on the beach.

"When this is all over," she said to Twit, watching the tide, the soft sand that was so different from the rocky coasts of Bronquia, "maybe we can vacation here."

She was restless. She'd taken to shell-gathering, waiting until a wave came in, then plunging her hands in the water, searching before the wave pulled all its goodies back into the sea. She'd found some fragmented shells, amber-colored sea glass, and an old gold coin with a four-headed wolf on it.

But she didn't want to treasure hunt right now. She glanced up. It was high noon, the sun an over-bright spark in an over-blue sky. She stood and paced, sand puffing into her boots. Twit, ripping into a seagull, raised her head and watched her, then went back to business. Pacing, instead of loosening her up, was making her even more anxious. She jogged back to the map she'd sketched.

_Okay, yesterday Yggdra was at St. Meriata, trying to take it from the Archbishop. And Zilva said Brother's found a stronghold on that coast so...Okay, they could be fighting it out even now. Unless he wants to wait. Or maybe the Archbishop took Yggdra captive. Hm, would he sell her to us?_

She jumped up, impatient with speculations. She continued pacing, loosening her hair, running her fingers through it, then hastily redoing it. She stared to the south, but of course she couldn't see anything important.

She about-faced, looking at her camp. Noticing, several of her riders looked back, and one even saluted.

Emilia took that as her approval. She whistled to Twit, who clambered up, made a brief attempt to shake the sand out of her fur and feathers, then padded over. Emilia mounted. Her riders, seeing this, stirred themselves, reaching for their packs, a few grabbing hold of their griffons' bridles.

She glanced at her captains. "Tedra, I'm leaving you in command. Keep cycling the patrols, but don't move unless you receive word from Zilva or my brother." Her mind was working so quickly she could barely formulate the orders. "My unit is flying for St. Meriata." No one questioned this, though they all had seen that Emilia had received no message from a courier. Had just been fuming on the beach, probably looking like an idiot.

She could still turn back.

Emilia chewed her lower lip. Anxiety rattled through her. She knew she'd be bawled out if she arrived at St. Meriata without any protocol, without any need. She also knew that, at least right now, the idea of chastisement didn't even touch her. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was wasting precious seconds, was exactly where she shouldn't be.

"Come on." Twit curvetted as Emilia turned her, then extended her wings, red burnished in the sunlight. At a kick from Emilia, she flexed her back legs, then sprang into the air, joined by the rest of princess' personal unit. Emilia glanced at them in her periphery. She'd shuffled some new riders in, and she wondered how many of them would live through the next battle.

Remembering her maps, Emilia flew southeast for St. Meriata, the papal seat. They skimmed over the sea, soon leaving the glittering water for the land - rocky, sandy and flat, the monotony broken only by small villages and Temple strongholds. Most were empty, and the villages themselves were quiet, the people afraid of being attacked by one of the sects or the bandits that lately had free rein across the desert. They swept over a merchant caravan, and Emilia could see the guards lift their swords, expecting a raid. Naturally wary, or had that other griffon unit been causing trouble? Tedra thought she recognized them from Lost Aries, which had startled Emilia. Had Yggdra found an aerial force?

No matter. She wasn't turning back.

Hours passed. As the sky darkened, Emilia fished some jerky out of her pack only because it was the time she normally ate. She wasn't hungry, but she'd need her strength. Twit, smelling even that sad excuse for meat, whined, but Emilia kept her flying. The unit's pace had been swift and steady, constantly rotating position in the air, sometimes one rider on point, another protected in the center, another riding slightly ahead, shifting so that everyone cycled through each position.

The further south they flew, the more signs of damage Emilia could see - broken gates, burnt buildings. One town had piled its dead outside their wall, and the riders sped up, trying to outpace the smell. Likewise, she could also see the marks of several armies' passage. She strained her ears, listening for the sounds of combat.

Twit swung her ears forward first. Emilia gestured for her riders to shift so that she was on point. Emilia leaned forward, calling for more speed.

The light was failing, but as Emilia flew over St Meriata, she could see enough. Gulcasa had found the Royals, and the dead and wounded lay tumbled around the cathedral's walls. The Dragon Cavalry was being forced back through an ornate iron bridge between the church and the town by - by - those _bandits?_ She scanned the cavalry, looking for fire, her brother's distinctive horned helmet. She didn't see him, but she realized that the cavalry had formed a block around its center, which could only mean-

Emilia bared her teeth and went into a dive.

She didn't mind that the bandits saw her. Her aim was to scatter them, and they fell back, away from the Dragoons. As they pulled out of the dive, Emilia signaled to her riders to buy her some time. While the unit harried the bandits, Emilia flew over the cavalry.

Several Dragoons stepped aside to let her land at the center. A fireball blasted overhead - Emilia swiveled - Yggdra had nabbed a mage? - then turned back. "Brother!"

Gulcasa lifted his face, but he was still doubled over his dragon's neck, hand held to his side. Blood was splashed across his lower lip. She thought he said something, but the fire barrage was growing too loud, too fast.

"Move your butts, I'm getting the emperor outta here!" Emilia snapped to the nearest Dragoons. Then she turned around, watching the hail of fire. Most of the fireballs fell short, but one hit a Dragoon to her left. She backed up. Some of her unit must have gone to attack the witches. How long would the bandits be held off?

The Dragoons worked quickly, easing Gulcasa off his dragon (he seemed to want to stand, but was reduced to leaning heavily on one of his comrades), then refitting Majunga's tack onto Twit as a second harness. Emilia didn't tell them to stop. She was afraid of putting Gulcasa on a griffon in his current state, knowing he might tumble off, but - as one fireball landed just short of the cavalry's center - there was no faster means of getting him to safety.

In another moment, Gulcasa was being strapped on behind her. (She could feel Twit shift to compensate for the added weight - _Sorry, Twit, first chance I get, I'll feed you some veal_.) Gulcasa slumped forward, his forehead to the back of her head, and later she'd royally, no, imperially chew him out, but for now all she said was, "We're moving now. Don't embarrass us by falling off." A fireball blasted close, making Twit toss her head, leaving Emilia's eyes dry. She prompted Twit to shriek three times, signaling her riders to cover her. She watched as they closed over the cavalry, dodging fireballs, one griffon blazing up in the darkness, falling into enemy ranks. She waited as long as she could, and kicked off, half-expecting Gulcasa to roll right off Twit's back. He stayed in place somehow, even when Twit swerved to avoid a fireball. Emilia quickly leveled, racing to escape spell range, the remainder of her unit following.

It was night by then, strangely quiet and dark after the battlefield, though Emilia could hear the griffons on every side. Without her commanding it, they'd positioned themselves around her, and when they changed position, she stayed in the middle. She could hear Gulcasa breathing, but it was labored. He coughed once, and she thought she felt drops of blood hit her shoulder.

_What happened? Were you wounded? It was something with Brongaa, wasn't it? Why are you doing this? This is all Nessiah's fault! But no, you're always in control, you're the one doing this. Why can't we just go home? No, Brongaa's there, the moment we get home, you're going to make this a million times worse, aren't you?_

Now wasn't the place to demand answers.

It was long past midnight when they reached Kerissa, the island a dark smudge against the star-flecked sea. "Hold on," Emilia said. Gulcasa groaned. She banked as gently as she could, coming into a gradual descent, Twit landing at a walk. Fires were being lit throughout the camp, and she heard several of riders exclaim - even swear - at seeing her passenger.

She wasn't sure how conscious Gulcasa was as she commanded two of her riders to carry him into her own tent, their only medic coming in after her. His eyes fluttered open blankly, and he made no effort to track anyone's movements. "General Emilia, you'd better leave for the time being," the medic said, keeping one rider with her to act as assistant.

Emilia growled but was obedient, stomping out of the tent. Twit pawed the ground, wanting her saddle removed after the long ride. Exhausted herself, Emilia untacked Twit, who lay down, cat-like, on her belly, one wing coming up to shield her eyes. After a moment, Emilia curled up against the griffon's stomach, head against her leonine flank. Twit burbled far back in her throat but made no effort to dislodge her. Emilia stared up at the stars, thinking she wouldn't be able to sleep. She did, in patches, and she always woke up to find herself listening for sounds from her tent.

* * *

She horned her way inside in the morning, directly after meeting with the medic.

"The wound isn't bad," she'd said.

"But - he was coughing blood, that means internal bleeding-"

"He was hurt in the shoulder, and he seems to have accidentally bitten out part of his inner mouth. I don't see any signs of intestinal damage." She paused. "Aside from that, he's very weak. I think it must be strain or stress."

"Well, we don't have time to give him aromatherapy." And, forehead rumpled with concern, she slipped into her tent. Even in the dim light, she could tell Gulcasa was too pale, the skin around his eyes drawn and haggard. He didn't stir, which wasn't like him at all. She considered kicking him - lightly - just so he'd wake up, but then she realized that he probably needed rest, lots of it.

Just as she'd turned to leave, he snorted and blinked his eyes partially open. Emilia crouched down next to him, hoping he'd recognize her. Gulcasa looked at her, then the canvas above them, his armor piled in the corner, then as much of himself as he could see, the thick bandage around his shoulder and upper chest. He opened his mouth and winced - talking with that wound probably hurt, Emilia realized.

"We're on Kerissa Island," Emilia said, trying to make things easier for him. "I got a rider from Luciana about an hour ago. They're falling back from St. Meriata, but she said she was going on to Nacht Altar." He nodded. "I haven't heard anything else. And I don't know how long it'll be till the Royals discover we're here."

He sighed, and spoke with some difficulty. "I will need you to send some messengers. The Imperial Army must withdraw entirely."

Emilia widened her eyes. "We're...going home?"

He hesitated, then nodded again.

Emilia glanced at the shoulder wound. It was bloody, but it shouldn't have been enough to so devastate Gulcasa. "It was the...Unbinding Ritual, wasn't it? Some aftereffect."

Gulcasa winced, but even then composed his features. "We're going home, Emilia. Be happy."

"Sure," she said, not as confidently as she would have liked.

He touched her wrist. "Thank you for coming last night. How did you know?"

She shrugged, her thoughts still scattered. "It's my job to know."

"Perhaps. But-" he flinched from pain "-wait a bit before you say 'I told you so'."

Emilia couldn't laugh.


	27. Chapter 27

27.

One thing Emilia wouldn't miss about Nyllard Desert - the cloudless, relentlessly hot sky. As the column stopped for a short rest, she glided down to join Gulcasa, though the ground felt just as hot. By rights, he should've rested much longer than a day, but he'd forced himself to return to his army, both to lead the retreat and to make sure no one defected. He hid his wounds well, making a concerted effort to keep his shoulders squared and to speak naturally. As far as Emilia could tell, those soldiers who hadn't actually seen him wounded didn't believe the rumors that he'd been incapacitated. It was the third day of their retreat, and Emilia couldn't tell if time had made her brother stronger or weaker.

"Do you see anything?" he asked, reaching for his canteen.

"Nothing unusual. No Royals."

"They're probably happy enough to rest." He glanced to side. "What's this?"

A figure was approaching, several Dragoons parting to let it pass. In a moment, they saw Luciana, her red and black armor dusty, her left hand wrapped in a bandage. Upon seeing Gulcasa, she sank into a genuflect, bowing her head almost to her chest - the posture of a supplicant.

Emilia could see Gulcasa suppress an exasperated sigh (after he'd sighed exasperatedly at her so many times, she knew what to look for). "Rise."

"I am not worthy," Luciana clipped, not even lifting her face. "I killed the pope, but I was too late to stop the coronation. I have failed." That much was obvious, but she'd had to say it.

"You are still alive," Gulcasa said briskly. "That is no failure." He gathered his reins, turning his dragon even as Luciana gazed up at him. "Return to your command. We must move quickly." He made as if to ride off, but pulled up after a moment, looking back at her. "Tell me, Luciana - how did Yggdra react when you met her at Nacht Altar?"

Luciana's right hand, on her knee, tightened, and her smile wasn't pleasant. "The idiot couldn't understand why I was there. She kindly reminded me that only the Fantasinian heir and the pope could approach the altar. But even after that, she couldn't explain my arrival. She was bewildered to the last."

"Maybe she thought you were the new pope," Emilia suggested, lifting into the air.

* * *

Baldus frowned gravely when the army returned to Ishnad. Gulcasa, seeing it, tensed in a way that Emilia remembered from when he was much younger, when he'd failed to do his schoolwork but refused to be publicly chastised for it. For his sake, Emilia kept her chin high. The imperial family would show no weakness, not now.

Now that they were weaker than they'd ever been before.

"So what now?" Emilia asked that evening, over the best dinner they'd had in weeks - lamb stew, currant preserves and bread. "What's Yggdra going to do?"

"I would be very surprised if she doesn't hunt my blood." Gulcasa took a long drink of wine, his forehead pinched.

"Hypocrite," Emilia muttered. "She's going to invade? Hasn't she been calling herself the 'good guy' in all of this?" She jabbed a piece of lamb with her spoon. "Well, she can't take us down in our own country." She looked up quickly, testing his reaction. What did he think would happen?

His expression was closed. She couldn't read it either way.

"According to Baldus, I still have the people's support. I..." He stared at his glass. "I half can't believe that."

"You're making Bronquia stronger," Emilia said, not mentioning that the Fantasinian takeover had cost them much. (Well, Fantasinia hadn't gotten off easy either!) "That makes them feel proud." She paused. "You're a hero."

Gulcasa sighed, then seemed to gather himself. "I am going to fall back to Flarewerk. It will be good for the people to see me, and..."

_And Brongaa._ Emilia took a gulp of her own wine. _You're going to prepare more carefully this time._

Gulcasa probably realized she'd filled in the blank on her own. "As soon as her forces have regained their strength, Yggdra will probably take Canossa Road and begin fighting her way to Ishnad. I can trust the fortress to no one better than Baldus."

Emilia waited quietly.

"You will come with me, for the time being," Gulcasa said after a moment. "I will need you to scout the countryside between Flarewerk and Ishnad." He finished the glass. "It will do the people good to see you as well."

Emilia looked down, shivering as she suddenly realized that if Gulcasa died, she would be his successor.

_That's not going to happen,_ she told herself, gritting her hands so tightly her left arm pulsed with pain.

* * *

Emilia ran her hand over the coverlet of her own bed, in her own room, the room in Castle Bronquia that she'd had since she was three years old. She glanced around at her books, her jewelry, the glass figurines that had been her mother's. Something should have changed. Some of these things should've been broken. How had everything remained so safe?

A breakfast tray sat on her bedside table: gingerbread pancakes, coffee with cream and chocolate, blueberries. Bronquia was about to be invaded, and they were serving her treats?

_Maybe they're just glad we're back._ She picked up the tray, setting it on her lap. The food looked too soft and pretty compared to what she'd been eating for the past months.

Eating didn't make her feel better - in fact, she started to cry and only half-finished breakfast. She felt as though she'd been caught playing with dolls, dressing-up, doing something she should've outgrown by now.

_It's just food._ She wiped her eyes._ You're being silly._ But she'd lost her appetite. She walked to the window, looking out at the familiar sights of Flarewerk. Was it still home?

_Brongaa's waiting.

* * *

_

"Is it true? _Queen_ Yggdra's made it to Ishnad?"

Emilia turned and jumped with surprise. "Aegina?"

The Valkyrie laughed dryly. "I suppose now you can tell us apart." Aegina crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against Twit's stall. Her silky blonde hair fell over her eyes, but didn't hide the thin bandages splayed across her face, holding a pad over her right eye socket. "So, is she coming?"

"Baldus can hold her off," Emilia retorted. "And even if it wasn't Baldus there, Ishnad's our strongest fortress. It's stronger than Karona." But there was worry in her face, and she knew Aegina could see it.

"I suppose so," Aegina said, though there was a slight uncertainty to her voice. "After all, Baldus has the defenses, the cannons, the supplies." Her left eye tensed. "He should be able to hold out." She looked down, then turned and left. "Where's my unit?"

* * *

Gulcasa lifted his eyebrow when Emilia entered his room. "You look concerned."

"You summoned me," Emilia shot back. "And I have a feeling it's for nothing good."

Gulcasa didn't respond to that beyond grimacing. His desk was in disarray, strewn the maps and reports. If he considered any way to soften his news, he rejected it. "I need you to support Baldus at Ishnad."

"Yggdra's besieged it for almost a week now," Emilia said, working it out. "And it'll take me four days to get there if I fly like a demon. Do you really think it's going to last that long?"

"If it doesn't, you can support Baldus' recovering army as they continue to hold the border." He frowned distastefully. "Or thwart Yggdra as she continues towards Flarewerk."

"Or cover Baldus' retreat," Emilia suggested.

"He won't retreat."

Emilia pressed her lips together, then nodded. "I won't either."

Gulcasa threw her a swift look, his eyes widening slightly. "Don't be a fool, Emilia," he said, his tone taking on a sternness she'd rarely heard from him. "If you cannot hold against Yggdra, I command you to fall back."

Emilia balled her hands into fists. "What? I'm not a kid! You aren't giving Baldus those orders."

"Baldus," Gulcasa said severely, "is not my sister."

Emilia wavered between kicking him in the shin and telling him not to worry. She stamped her foot. "Okay, I get it!"

Gulcasa watched her carefully, then nodded to the door. "Prepare yourself. I want you to leave tonight."

* * *

As always when she flew to a battlefield, Emilia mentally reviewed her strategies, anything that could have happened before she got there - what she'd do if she found Baldus in retreat, how she'd respond if she found Baldus dead but the rest of the garrison still fighting, how exactly she'd murder Yggdra if she found her rushing down the road to Flarewerk. And she repeated to herself that Ishnad was the strongest fortress on the continent, Baldus was the God of War, both of them would prevail against Fantasinia's seventeen year old queen.

Emilia squinted, then rubbed her eyes, flying over the Great Gates, over the fortress and its interior city. Baldus and Eudy had taken refuge behind the interior gates, the Gates of Carnage, presumably regathering their strength. The town of Ish was in turmoil, people barricading the streets, others trying to push their way to the Gates of Carnage. Further south, the streets rushed with filthy black water. Every wall but the north wall was damaged, the south nothing but rubble, and the only high ground, to the east, was held by the Royal Army.

_How - where'd the water come from - Argh, it doesn't matter how, it's happened. She's turned Ishnad into a sand castle. _

Emilia glanced back at Baldus' force, then the Royals. Several units were climbing over and through the wreckage of the east wall, but it was too treacherous for the cavalry. The mages and archers too were held in reserve, being useless in street fighting.

_I guess this one's up to me. _The Scarlet Riders divided into squadrons, angling down over the streets. Emilia searched for a clear target in the chaos and found it in the bandit with the long blue cloak.

However, even with the fortress' wide streets, built to accomodate parading cavalries, she barely had room to make her dive, her squadron-mates shifting behind her. Even before she'd come within range of the bandits, Emilia pulled up, biting her lip with frustration. So upset she could hardly think, she watched as more and more civilians surged forward to evacuate. A heavy grinding shivered through the air, the Gates of Carnage parting.

She had to buy the civilians time. She knew she was being foolhardy, but she pushed that realization back in her brain, behind her anger. She stooped towards the blue bandit, her mace raised, when behind her, she heard a scream and a crack. She pulled up, her squadron following, seeing her fourth squadron mate falling to the ground, her griffon's left wing at an unnatural angle.

_Damn -_ Emilia pulled up higher. Had she broken it against the side of a house? Damn, she was an idiot, they couldn't fight down there_._ And they couldn't even rescue that rider as several of bandits closed in on her.

Not looking back, she retreated, flying to the ramparts over the Gates of Carnage.

"Emilia!" Eudy was the worst Emilia had ever seen her, hair mostly undone, smoke across her face, wide-eyed as she ran to check the cannons along the ramparts. "Thank the gods you're here. We have to beat these bastards back before they take the gates!"

"How?" Emilia demanded, legging Twit ahead of the other riders. "I can't fight in those streets. I never should've tried."

Eudy said something, but her words were drowned out by the blare of a battle horn - the call for retreat. Emilia kicked up in the air to see better.

"What's going on?" Eudy shouted.

"Baldus is falling back to the Great Gates. Damn, all these refugees-!"

"Let's cover them, Emilia!"

But as much as they tried to stop them, diving and firing alternately, the Royals were sweeping into the fort, the refugees clogging the Gates of Carnage in a mad panic. As Emilia pulled up, Eudy maintained a constant barrage, both to drive the refugees on and to hold off the Royals.

Eudy gestured Emilia down. The Scarlet Princess squinted in the smoke and dust, her arm over her mouth. "How's our retreat look?" Eudy rasped.

"I think most of the refugees are through. The Great Gates are closed."

Even with the dark soot, Eudy's face was pale. "You...you can fly away at least."

They heard the horn again, a short series of retorts that commanded all units to fall back. "That's us," said Emilia.

"But I-" Eudy gestured to the cannons. "I can't move these in time!"

"You have other cannons, Eudy!" Emilia signaled her riders close. "Everyone, pick up a witch!" And she locked onto Eudy's arm. "Are don't make me pull you up, because you look heavy, Eudy."

Eudy grimaced. "I don't have to take this." But she clambered up behind Emilia, gripping her tightly around the waist. Emilia held her ground, waiting until each witch was mounted behind a griffon rider, then turned her flight north.

She found Baldus and his personal unit waiting just inside the gate. Though the cavalry parted to let the stream of refugees through, they did not allow them to rest, forcing them to abandon the fortress entirely. Emilia wondered where they'd go.

She came to land in front of Baldus as he was issuing rapid commands to his captains. "What about us, Baldus?" Emilia asked as soon as he was through, while Eudy unsteadily slid from Twit's back.

Baldus considered for barely a second, his draft horse stamping its hooves uneasily. "You two must fall back."

"What?" Emilia glanced at the long line of refugees, the wreckage of Bronquia's greatest defense. "No, I can fight. C'mon, Eudy, let's plaster them!"

"General Baldus-" Eudy looked from him to her far-away cannons. "I don't think - I'm not sure we-"

Baldus rode towards them. "You must go. The emperor himself would command it."

"You don't know that," Emilia snapped. "Besides, do you think you can hold the Gates without us?"

Baldus lifted his thick eyebrows. "I was born here. For me, there is no better battleground."

"But - look, up there, Yggdra's griffon riders. I can fight them off."

"Who else will guard the capital?"

"You're not going to-"

"Emilia," Baldus said solemnly, "who else will guard the emperor?"

Emilia bared her teeth in frustration. "You - all right!"

Pale tear-lines streaked Eudy's dirty cheeks, either because she was moved by Baldus' words or she was terrified - or she was royally upset at leaving her cannons. "Thank you, Baldus. Here." With a bright scintillation in the air, she summoned four giant stone golems. "Use them in my place."

Baldus bowed from the saddle. "Thank you. Now go."

Without any prompting from Emilia, Eudy hoisted herself astride the griffon, clamping her arms around the princess. They flew quickly; soon, they couldn't hear the sounds of battle.

"Stop crying," Emilia snapped. "I don't have any tissues. And it's a long way to Flarewerk, and I don't want to have to hear this the whole ti-"

"Don't you get it?" Eudy's voice came from behind her. "Baldus can't hold those gates. He sent us off so we wouldn't die alongside him!"

Emilia's hands tightened on the reins. Twit, feeling it, flicked her ears back. "That's not necessarily true. You couldn't use your cannons, and my griffons weren't good in the city-"

"He still could've used us!" Eudy shot back. She swore. "Yggdra's going to invade our homeland, and the only Dragon General left is a delusional teenybopper."

"Maybe she won't get through. Maybe Zilva will find some secret way to-"

"Zilva's dead."

Emilia found she was twisting the reins between her hands.

* * *

They continued to fly in silence, and even when they stopped to rest, she and Eudy barely spoke. The next day, she flew Eudy to the northwest, to Schlange Road, the long highway that eventually twisted to the north of Drominos Marsh, connecting Flarewerk to the rest of Bronquia. There was a waystation five miles from the marsh, and here Emilia dropped Eudy and her riders off.

"What are you doing?" the Magister demanded. "Baldus told us to return to Flarewerk."

"I don't know what you've been doing," Emilia said, "but I've been thinking. And if Baldus is toast, then Yggdra's going to continue on through Bronquia. Somebody has to warn the civilians." She tightened the reins, lifting Twit's head. "And somebody has to slow her down."

"But-"

"As the Dragon General, I command you to return to Flarewerk and support Emperor Gulcasa. If he wants to call me back, he can send a messenger."

Eudy's jaws jutted out for a moment, but she nodded. "Okay. We'll hire some horses and ride as fast as we can."

"Great." Emilia turned to her riders. "We'll rest here for half a day. Then we're off again." She moistened her lips. "We won't let the Empire down."


	28. Chapter 28

28.

Emilia smiled, though she wasn't exactly happy. _Baldus said only Eudy and I would be left to defend Bronquia. I guess he wasn't expecting this._

She wished they had much more time. Even as Baldus fell and Yggdra pushed through the Great Gates, stories of the carnage raced ahead of her. As Emilia darted from village to village, she found the townspeople had already heard her news, were already afraid - and angry. Many villages had straw dummies hanging in the main squares, often covered in refuse or slated to be burnt - effigies of Yggdra. The youth and local militias were banding together, calling themselves the Anti-Paltas Militia. Emilia took this news silently, unsure what to do. These people fervently wanted to protect their motherland, but so many of them were woefully untrained. She sent messages to Gulcasa, asking him to deploy units into the countryside, to protect the volunteers. But she feared he no longer had the forces to spare.

* * *

She had received her orders an hour ago, written in her brother's own hand - _Return to Flarewerk_. And for once - the only time - she was disobeying. Not _exactly _disobeying, she told herself. She had every intention of returning to Flarewerk. It was her responsibility. But it was also her responsibility to survey Bronquia's countryside, and she wanted to make one thorough sweep of her immediate surroundings before turning west. She was the only one who could do it at this point, and she didn't want to miss a thing.

Her base had been one of several forts in the wide band of woods directly east of Flarewerk, along the Schlange Road. Though roundabout, this was the safest and most efficient route to the capital, the one Yggdra would take. As such, Gulcasa had strengthened its garrisons, and Emilia had flown there every other day to rest and reconnoiter.

She'd woken up that morning in a village south of Drominos Marsh. After receiving Gulcasa's message, she decided she'd scout north until she hit the woods, then fly west, return to Flarewerk. At this distance, it would only take a few hours to reach the castle. Obedient to his orders, just...taking her own initiative.

She skimmed over the marsh. While there was a road through it (and even some villages), she doubted Yggdra would push that way. Swamps were treacherous on their own, but Bronquia's had the added pleasure of being poisonous. The Scarlet Riders flew high above it, avoiding the miasma.

They dropped altitude once they passed the marsh, and it was then that Emilia smelled smoke. She and the other riders sat up, casting around the forest below - then to the east, to a slowly rising tree of black smoke.

Emilia pictured the map that hung in her room, trying to locate the source of the smoke. Bardot Hill, the site of two small forts that Gulcasa had recently abandoned. Was there a battle? Why would there be, if the forts were empty?

"General." Seeing her hesitation, one rider broke formation and flew close to her, her eyes wide. "It's the Militia. I heard some of them have set up their defenses there."

"What? No-" Emilia legged Twit into a swift turn, her riders falling into place behind her. _This isn't good. They're just a militia, they can't stop a full army._ The air rushing past her grew hotter.

As they swept over the tree-line, Emilia clearly saw the wreckage of Bardot's eastern fortress, the fallow land surrounding it in flames. The Royal Army was forcing through the western fort's defenses, destroying the youth militia.

"Damn it!" Emilia signaled for dives. "Get out of our home!"

On the edges of her vision, she could see the defenders rally as the Scarlet Riders dropped from the sky. She stooped on the bandits, Twit extending her claws. She killed on her first strike, pulling up into the air, dropping the bandit's corpse onto his comrades.

By then, the Royal archers had prepared themselves, and their arrows chased the griffons as they flew out of range. Emilia circled, then shot down to the Royal's opposite flank, to their cavalry. Seeing her coming, the knights raised their lances, but she pulled up before striking, the shrieking griffons making the horses sidestep. Again Twit climbed high in the air. _What can I do? I can only harass them._

She flew to the fort, the defenders. "Guys," she said, "you still have time to pull back! We can make it to Schlange!"

"This is our home!" someone shouted. "We're not leaving!"

Emilia narrowed her eyes. She couldn't deny them the right to protect Bronquia. _But if I don't do something, every last one of them is going to die._ She studied the battlefield, trying to find a pattern in the chaos. But the Militia was untrained, had no strategy that she could exploit. Yggdra's forces hardly had to protect themselves as they advanced.

_Yggdra._

Coming around the fort's right, Emilia searched for the queen's personal Valkyrie unit. They'd somehow been pushed to the Royal's left flank, battling a flagging group of swordsmen. Emilia checked the position of the archers and mages - perhaps the griffons would be out of range.

_Fight someone in your own league, Yggdra._ She signaled the dive.

Many of the Valkyries only looked up at the last moment, and one who raised her blade to defend herself was gutted by a swordsman. Yggdra, her hair and tiara splashed with blood, only glanced at the griffons and continued fighting, her face pale.

Emilia struck fast and hard. Her mace caught one Valkyrie in the neck, and Twit's wing struck another, breaking her arm and shoulder. Emilia rose high, her squadron - minus a rider - joining her. She lifted her mace and did a barrel roll high above Yggdra's unit.

But Yggdra hadn't been hurt, and several units closed in to protect her. And they still pushed towards the fort.

Emilia watched, shaking with dismay and rage. _If I could just hit them hard enough and in the right place -_ Hardly taking a moment to think, she dove again, shooting for the bandits.

An arrow scraped across her forehead, and she heard a scream from the rider to her right. Pulling instantly up into the air, she glanced back and saw that an entire squadron had been caught in the arrow-flurry.

"General Emilia." It was one of her riders, panting, an arrow shot through her arm. "We can't do this."

Soldiers were never supposed to question their commanders. That simple statement from her rider brought Emilia up short, and she stared down at the fort, the teeming battle.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but her voice quickly built. "The - the Scarlet Princess has to abandon you all to die, doesn't she!" She ended on a shriek, swinging her griffon around, darting west. Her riders struggled to match her speed.

* * *

"Emilia - what?" Gulcasa looked startled as Emilia stepped inside his study, not bothering to knock. He rose from his desk, taking in the splatters of blood along the hem of her skirt. His voice shifted from concern to full command. "What's happened?"

"Yggdra's taken Bardot Hill," Emilia said. "The militia there was slaughtered."

"That's predictable," Gulcasa said.

Emilia looked up at him, eyes bright. Then she threw herself onto the floor and beat the carpet with her hands. She peripherally noticed Gulcasa take a step away from her.

She stopped abruptly, breathing hard, the ends of her hair trailing on the floor. Her hands were bloody. The floor hadn't done that. It must have been the battle.

"This is all our fault, Gulcasa," she said, voice unsteady. "We invaded their country, and now they're destroying our home."

"Emilia-"

"I-it's the Bronquian code, isn't it? They're the strong ones now, they deserve to kill us, we just have to sit back and let them do it because we're not strong enough to do anything else anymore! But we can't complain because we just brought this on ourselves didn't we? And now we're all going to die and we're supposed to take care of Bronquia and we've ruined everything!"

Hesitantly, Gulcasa knelt down next to her.

"That's what Mother wanted us to do, and Father - Father hasn't even been dead a year and..."

After a moment, Gulcasa put his hand on her shoulder. "Calm down-"

"I can't calm down!" Emilia shouted, tears running down her face. "And you shouldn't either!"

"Then try to hold yourself together."

"I shouldn't be here." Sobbing this hard, it hurt to talk, to breathe in. "I should've stayed there. They died to protect Bronquia, but it's not even their job, it's my job. I should've stayed and fought to the death." She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to see him, the room, the maps, anything. After a moment, she heard him get up and cross the floor, walking into his bedroom. She uncovered her face, wiping her sleeve across her eyes - but no, there was blood on her sleeve - or was that blood from the wound across her forehead? Looking at the window, she realized it was raining, the window pane streaked as though it were dissolving, the drops muted against the castle's stone walls. When had that started?

Gulcasa walked back in and, kneeling, set a basin of water on the floor. His tone was quiet, but he didn't look at her yet. "Wash yourself."

"I don't-"

He winced. "Please."

Gulping, Emilia lowered her hands into the basin. He passed her a washcloth. She made a half-hearted scrub across her left knuckles. "It's still our fault."

"It's not over yet."

Emilia sniffed. "It's over at Bardot Hill."

Gulcasa looked down at the floor for a moment, arms braced against his knees. Flinching, Emilia lifted the washcloth and dabbed at her forehead, blood and water trickling against her eyelids.

"You did the right thing, Emilia," Gulcasa said gently. "You can better protect Bronquia if you're alive to help me."

"I could've - I could've done something for them."

"You fought alongside them."

She pulled the washcloth away, opening her eyes. "And retreated right in front of them!" She bit her lip, staring at the tainted water. "I told them to fall back, but they wouldn't."

"They made their choice." Gulcasa looked at his hands, then up. "They were civilians. They had the luxury of thinking only for themselves. You have many more people to think of."

Emilia wiped her nose on the side of her hand. "I wish I'd thought hard enough to save them." Gulcasa awkwardly patted her shoulder. Hesitating, she looked up at him. "Do you...wish we hadn't started this?"

Gulcasa waited a long moment, his eyes unreadable. "No," he said eventually. "No matter how hard it is, no matter how long it takes, we will prevail."

Head hurting, Emilia closed her eyes and nodded.

"I'm sorry," Gulcasa said after another long moment, "for what this has done to you."

She shook herself. "It hasn't done anything."


	29. Chapter 29

29.

Emilia opened her eyes, waking to a blurry shaft of light through her window. She groaned, her body sore from battle, but lazing in bed would only make her feel guilty. It was the first cold morning of the year, she realized as she crept out from the covers and trotted to her wardrobe. She batted aside fabrics, grabbing the first autumn piece that came to hand: a black dress she never wore last year because her father hadn't liked the color. Refusing to dwell on that, she pulled it up over her head. Pausing to find some jewelry, put her hair in pigtails and find some shoes, she left her room, jogging through the corridors.

Her heart sank - then sped up - as she saw a messenger stalking through one hallway, heading for her brother's rooms. "What's happened?"

The messenger blinked, surprised at being questioned en route. "I've come from Schlange. Queen Yggdra has changed her course to Flarewerk. It appears she's going to hack her way through Drominos Marsh."

"Was she selectively bred to be an idiot?" Emilia wondered out loud. Yggdra was taking a land-bound force through a swamp - a heavily wooded swamp - a heavily wooded poisonous swamp - instead of fighting her way up the well-maintained Schlange Road? But its very maintenance might have been the problem. Gulcasa had expected Yggdra would take that road, and he'd left it well-defended.

_There are villages in Drominos,_ Emilia remembered. _They won't know what hit them._ "Are there any defenses in the swamp?"

"Last I saw," the messenger said, "the Anti-Paltas Militia had placed its remaining forces there."

Guilt jabbed Emilia at the words _Anti-Paltas Militia_. "How many strong?" As the messenger rattled off a series of divisions, Emilia firmed her jaw. She took a deep breath once the messenger finished. "Okay. When you make your report to the emperor, add the Imperial Aerial Forces to that list."

"I - Yes, Your Highness." The messenger covered her surprise with a swift bow.

Emilia turned away and started for the mews. Her mind should have been whirling, but it was strangely calm. She was the last Dragon General. More importantly, she was the princess of Bronquia. Thieves were coming to steal her home, and she'd fight them every step of the way.

_If I'm going to stop her, I can't fight with only a few units. I need all of the remaining force. Drominos has a lot of tree cover, we'll need to be careful. Also the smog...we can use that. _

As the word went out for the aerial forces to assemble, Emilia clearly saw how their numbers had been depleted over the last months. She tried to keep her face impassive as she walked to Twit's side, but her lips were pressed hard together. She tightened her saddle girth, checked her pack and mace were strapped on securely. She'd received no counter-order from the emperor, though there'd been ample time. _Thanks, Gulcasa. _

She vaulted smoothly into the saddle, Twit stretching out her red wings. She gathered up her reins as she watched her units fall into place. Her personal unit, the Scarlet Riders, stood just behind her. Despite the short notice, many of them had put on their war paint; Emilia would've smiled under other circumstances.

At a light kick from Emilia's left ankle, Twit lifted into the air, the first of a rising storm of feathers, claws and shrieks. Emilia turned their course south, the riders falling into ranks behind her. Drominos Marsh was a dark blur across the horizon.

_This is the very least I can do, after running from Bardot Hill._ She tried to steady her breathing. _Please gods, help me do this._ Flarewerk disappeared below and behind her, giving way to farmlands. _I don't care what happens this time. I'm not running._

She remembered Gulcasa's words, his commanding her to fall back if she were in trouble.

_Please don't let it come to that. _

They were over the marshlands, the high, ragged trees half-hidden in the smog. Even so, Emilia could see small bands of militiamen preparing defenses._ They don't deserve this._ _They didn't start any wars. I helped start all this, so please let me be the one to end it. _

From her vantage, she could see the Royal Army approaching, slowed by the dense trees, sucking swamp mud and the thick noxious air. Emilia bared her teeth. She'd never believe Yggdra was a hero or had some divine quest. She had no reason to kill these volunteers. This was only revenge.

The trees and fog would give the griffons marginal cover from the archers, and Yggdra would have to be braindead to use fire or lightning in the dense foliage. Granted, forestland was hardly ideal for the riders themselves, but... She signaled for the units to divide, to begin attacking the Royals on all sides.

The Scarlet Riders made a short sweep above the treeline, then dove for Yggdra's unit. Coughing in the smog, the Valkyries lifted their swords defensively. The Scarlet Riders passed just short of their sword tips, Emilia swerving to avoid trees as she climbed again. She made a half turn, then the riders dove a second time, coming from the back, ignoring a smattering of arrows from the nearest archers. The Valkyries struggled to turn and meet the attack, but Emilia felt as Twit's claws sank into one's face. Emilia struck with her mace, the spikes ringing against armor.

"Watch it, birdies!" As she rose, Emilia caught a flash of blue in the corner of her eye. One of Emilia's riders screamed as the Silver Wolf attacked her griffon, his long curved axe slicing into the griffon's shoulder, through the rider's leg, and down to the flank.

Gaining altitude, Emilia glanced westward through the swamp. Had the volunteers finished their defenses?

No matter. She hadn't come to sit and watch. She turned in time to see an entire squadron of riders taken down by a sudden flurry of arrows. Her breath caught in her throat. She had to hurry or it would be more civilians dying.

_I wish we'd never started this war._

She tracked south, looking for an opening.

_Am I only saying that because we're losing?_

_We're not going to lose! I can protect Bronquia, I can protect Brother, no matter what happens_. Another squadron was killed, slaughtered as they dove at the bandits. Emilia bit her lip, concentrating on that, trying to keep from thinking. _But I have to think. I'm the only one who can do this._

She made another sweep. The wind was picking up, the naked tree-tops flailing in the dark mist, rattling below her. Out of more spite than strategy, she picked her target.

The Silver Wolf saw her at the last moment, swinging his axe around. Emilia reined Twit hard to the right and managed to avoid the blade, Twit's wing catching a bandit in his stomach, breaking his ribs. She surged up, Twit's other wing clipping a tree before they rose above the swamp.

She gained altitude. From what she could see, several more aerial units were down, stymied by the trees or falling prey to the archers. _Come on. They're not going to go away if we just sit here. _She dropped, circling the army, searching for a -

Twit shrieked and trembled under her, an arrow in her side. Emilia kicked her furiously, attempting to fly higher.

Another arrow struck the griffon's eye, blood flying back to hit Emilia's arm. Twit shrieked again and arched her neck down, trying to claw the arrow free, shredding that side of her face.

"Fly, damn you!" Emilia dug her heels into Twit's ribs. "Come on! You're okay, you can still fly!"

She felt wing beats on either side, her squadron surrounding her. "General Emilia - get on my griffon, I can get you to safe-" The rider dropped, an arrow in her griffon's throat. Emilia almost thought it was funny, except that it had really happened.

Emilia bent double, an arrow narrowly missing her face - then she and Twit dropped ten feet as another buried itself in Twit's left wing. The griffon splayed her wings, pumping them irregularly, fighting to stay aloft. Scarlet feathers scattered through the mist.

Warm blood seeped against Emilia's calf. Twit had been struck in the stomach. "It's okay!" Emilia said. "Just get a bit higher, and we can-" Her Scarlet Riders dove alongside her as the griffon fell, crashing into a brittle tree. Twit rolled, twigs stabbing Emilia's face, then they fell again through the poisonous haze, collapsing into the mud below. Even before she could really think, Emilia was kicking the griffon, forcing her to roll off her side. Pain was nothing more than a cold burn up Emilia's right leg, but she was sure it was broken.

Twit staggered to her feet, her wings angled limply to either side. Emilia gripped her mace, amazed she hadn't dropped it. The Scarlet Riders circled above her.

It was dark in the marsh, almost with a twilit haze, but Emilia could hear people rushing towards her. As soon as the bandits broke into view, the Scarlet Riders dove, attacking before they could reach the princess. One rider tried to break free, to reach Emilia, but her griffon was cut nearly in two by the Silver Wolf.

"Fall back!" Emilia shouted to her riders. Either they couldn't hear her or they simply refused. They kept attacking, kept falling. Too quickly, no more riders burst through the trees. Above her, Emilia could hear more units, but perhaps they couldn't see her.

_Maybe they still have time to escape._ Straightening her shoulders, she pulled Twit's head up. "Come on, you meathead. We aren't done yet!"

The Silver Wolf was at the front of his unit, breathing hard even in the poisonous air. "Back down, little girl. I really don't wanna kill you."

Emilia heeled Twit furiously in the sides. The griffon reared, her black and red feathers glimmering with blood. "I don't think you'll have to!"

The Silver Wolf set himself, lifting his axe. "You made your choice."

The bandits rushed her as one. Emilia swung Twit around, sweeping several to the ground with her uninjured wing. A bandit launched himself across Twit's spine, then fell away, his axe carving a deep trench in the griffon's back. Emilia tried to spin again, but Twit had been backed against a tree. She reared, slashing with her talons, Emilia bringing her mace down on a bandit's head.

Emilia slammed back against the tree, hitting her shoulder at a painful angle. Twit slumped to the ground, blood pooling under her. Despite the long slash across his face, the Silver Wolf grinned as he stepped away from the griffon, his axe bloody.

Emilia could feel Twit gasping for breath under her, her muscles spasming as she instinctively tried to stand, fly to safety. Emilia held her mace defensively in front of her, wondering if she could free herself from the saddle in time - but no, her leg was broken - she could hardly breathe, her straining lungs full of poison -

The Silver Wolf leapt at her, blue cloak flying, his axe swinging down.

She lifted her mace in both hands, blocked, but he pivoted, swung at her unprotected side. It seemed very slow, the way her dress ripped, the axe entered the soft skin of her stomach, then scraped hard against her ribs and slid out of her, burning with heat. She raised her mace to attack, but he'd reversed his strike, catching her across the chest, cutting deep.

She struck with all of her remaining strength, her mace slammed against his shoulder. The Silver Wolf gasped and fell back, his arm numbed, clutching his bleeding shoulder. The remaining bandits rushed her.

Groaning, Twit rolled onto her side. Emilia dropped her mace, doubled over as she hit the ground, the swamp muck cool against her skin. She opened her eyes to see the bandits closing around her, their axes hacking into her side and arm, her neck protected against her shoulder. It didn't hurt.

"Brother-!"

Where was she? What was she doing there? Where was Gulcasa, and Alkimus, and where were all the people she still needed to protect?

She hadn't protected anyone. She hadn't helped Bronquia to greatness.

A hand grabbed at her ear, ripping the lobe to free her pearl earring. Another snatched at her hair pins. Someone was shouting. The air was cooler, they were abandoning her. Her eyes were slightly open, she knew that, but she still couldn't see anything.

_I'm sorry._

The trees rattled against each other, high above her. The wind was strengthening, tearing away red feathers, lifting her long hair. For a moment, it drove away the poison surrounding her.

The last moment.


End file.
